


What I've Done

by jovialien



Series: Iantowood [1]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Children of Earth Fix-It, Episode: s03e04 Children of Earth - Day 4, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-19
Updated: 2012-08-19
Packaged: 2017-11-12 11:47:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 30,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/490563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jovialien/pseuds/jovialien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes the most horrific things can happen in your life and there is not a single thing you can do to change them.<br/>But sometimes, just sometimes, there is...</p>
            </blockquote>





	What I've Done

**Author's Note:**

> Someone asked for our ideas of what Series Four of Torchwood should be like. This was mine. It is quite different to what the Powers That Be wanted for the future of Torchwood and so in the best traditions of fanfiction I decided to spin off and write my own.

 

Captain John Hart sat back against the cheap wooden headboard and pulled one bare leg up to rest his elbow on it. Lighting up a cigarette, he took a long drag before looking at it curiously. Disgusting habit really, but he had come to enjoy it during his little travels. It seemed to fit him and besides, it couldn’t kill him – he had learnt long ago how to block the more lethal effects of narcotics in most galaxies and time periods.   
  
Course there were some highs that killed you more slowly than any of the cheap junk available on this planet. Like love. Glancing down at the bare back of the figure on the bed beside him, John reached out a hand as though to stroke the soft skin before pulling his fingers back slowly. Instead he simply watched as the chest kept rising and falling, a constant steady pace, as certain and never ending as the passage of time. Just like Captain Jack Harkness himself.  
  
As John watched, the map of wounds scattered across that bare skin, scratches, bites, bruises and burns all began to heal. Soon his partner, in every sense of the word, would be healed again and ready for another round. On the outside anyway.   
  
The small hotel room stank of sex, blood, cigarettes and alcohol. An empty bottle of vodka lay alongside Jack and another half full one stood on the floor beside the bed. A small row of empty miniatures were stacked up along the edge of the bedside table and their clothes were strewn across the room. The only thing John was wearing was his wrist strap. Jack didn’t even have that and looked almost vulnerable without it.  
  
Fiddling with the leather John looked down at Jack again and reached out, gently dragging the tip of the cigarette across Jack’s bare spine, watching the unconscious figure closely for any reaction as the skin began to scorch. Pale skin began to turn red but still Jack didn’t react. He was completely out of it. Content, John pulled back and took another deep pull of the cigarette before blowing smoke out tiredly.  
  
He had imagined this for ages. Had always hoped he would get Jack back, back in their old lives, conning and scamming and running and fucking and generally causing chaos. And it was pretty much as he had imagined, the two of them running and fighting and ending up in bed - or against it, over it, next to it, falling off it or ignoring it altogether - at the end of every day. It was brutal and harsh and hungry and just what he had pictured.  
  
Except it wasn’t. Jack wasn’t Jack any more. He was broken, and John didn’t think he would ever be fixed quite the same way again.   
  
It had been Gwen who had had to fill him in on the details. John had watched with the rest of the world as things had gone from bad to worse. He had seen the damage to the Plass. It had taken him over a week to get hold of Gwen; just hearing her voice had been enough to let him know what had happened.  
  
A month later he had tracked Jack down to a sleazy bar – specifically, a very sleazy bathroom in a very sleazy bar with an even sleazier blond. After a few well placed punches he had dragged Jack out of there and into a decent bed. They had barely left it in the three months that followed, only pausing long enough to raid Jack’s bank accounts, get more booze and get into fights.   
  
It hadn’t taken John long to realise that even when they were in fights it wasn’t really his Jack fighting. He only fought to provoke others to hit him back, never took any of the joy of the battle. Instead he merely welcomed the pain.  
  
After that John had given him all the pain he could handle, and then some, part of him knowing that if he didn’t Jack would only seek it elsewhere – and hoping that at least this way he might be able to get his Jack back. Not that he hadn't enjoyed it for it's own sake at times too.   
  
But it wasn’t working. There was only one way Jack would ever come back properly. John knew it, and had known it for ages. He couldn’t help the flash of jealousy within him at the thought of it though.  
  
Jack would never grieve like this for him.  
  
Stubbing out the cigarette on Jack’s bare cheek, John swung his legs off the bed and stood slowly, letting his body adjust to the alcohol and aches in his body. Damn it had been a hell of a ride. But it was time to end it.  
  
Dressing carelessly, he watched Captain Jack Harkness slip from unconsciousness into sleep and resisted the urge to wake him, to roll him over and go for one last fuck. He had given in to the urge for a dozen “last fucks” already and this time he had to be strong. He had to do what he had to do. Because, whether he liked it or not, he needed his Jack back.  
  
And for that, Jack needed his Ianto back.  
  
Shrugging his jacket on, John picked up the abandoned copy of the daily paper they had stolen from another room and tucked it into his pocket. He would need that later. He had never pictured himself as a hero but now he had to do something selfless again, just to save Jack’s sweet arse.   
  
Stepping over Jack’s discarded boots, John sat on the edge of the bed beside his partner and pushed the too long hair back from Jack's face. He never smiled any more. Not even in his sleep. Leaning over, John kissed Jack’s temple softly and hesitated, as though wanting to say something, but shook his head slightly instead. Pushing back off the bed John stepped away to as clear a space as he could get before tossing a sloppy salute off at the other Captain.  
  
“See you in hell, Jack.” With one last glance at the naked body sprawled on their bed Captain John Hart flipped open the cover of his wrist strap and activated his vortex manipulator.  
  
As the flash of light shone over the body of Captain Jack Harkness he stirred in his sleep, turning over onto his back.  
  
And smiled.

 

************************************

 

John could see it on Gwen’s face when he spoke to her; she had finally realised what her hero Jack had been capable of. Her faith in the good guys had crumbled and she was left with... what? The pain of living day to day, of having the memory of once being part of something greater than all this but no way to go back there. Trapped back in a life she had once left behind, waiting for....   
  
For someone to come save her from it all. For her Jack to come back to her. Except she knew now that her Jack had never existed. He was a figment of her imagination, the man who would never stop fighting no matter how much it hurt, no matter what the cost. The man who would do the right thing, would defeat the monsters and always come out the other side. The man who would stand up for them, would stand up _to_ them.  
  
Then she had seen the monster Jack kept inside, the creature of nightmares, and he could see it in her eyes. She had hated him for it.  
  
Of course, Captain John Hart had known the monster all along, had been there at the very beginning. He had seen Jack torture and kill and laugh at things that most people would have considered tragic. John had been there right alongside him, grinning in the darkness, sharing in the pleasure and the pain.   
  
But John had been surprised to see the hero Jack was with her, the avenging angel that was so unlike the coward he had known.   
  
Gwen had only seen the side Jack liked to show people now, the part of him he was happy to let come into the light, the man he was with his team. John on the other hand knew the man he had been, the life he had left behind so long ago. Who was to say which of them truly knew him better? Or what sort of man Jack truly was at heart.  
  
Who knew what sort of man he had been with Ianto, maybe some mix between the two, maybe Ianto alone had known the true Jack. Of course it was equally true that he could have been as confused as the rest of them.  
  
Secrets. So many secrets.   
  
He watched Gwen walk away across the edge of the Plass, skirting the crater, and wrapped his fingers tight around the disc she had given him. A simple CD, but one containing rift spike recordings that would form his ticket out of there.  
  
He watched the way she pulled her jacket across her growing stomach, the wind whipping her hair around her face. She hadn’t asked why he wanted the data. He imagined she expected him to simply go back to his own time, to leave Jack behind, to confirm her low opinion of him. Of them both.  
  
She had barely been able to say Jack’s name. He wondered idly, as she strode away, if the pain in her eyes was more than just being left behind, the guilt of a survivor. If perhaps the child she was protecting was more than just her only hope but was in fact a living reminder of the man who had left her.  
  
He wouldn’t put it past Jack. Hell, the Jack he knew would have considered it bad form not to have done her at least once. Especially as she was someone else’s; that just made the challenge more worthwhile.  
  
John wondered for a moment if he should tell her what he was doing. If she should know that he was risking this entire future, her life, her child’s life, every child’s life for one man. If he told her what he had planned would she want to help him or stop him? Would she have the strength to do what Jack had done, to sacrifice one close to her to protect a million strangers?  
  
Her head was bowed as she walked, her body language screaming the pain every step caused her, every breath reminding her she was alive and feeling guilty for it. She reminded him of Jack. But she wasn’t Jack. She wouldn’t have been strong enough to make the decision in his place.  
  
As he scanned the disc, placing it on top of his wrist strap and letting the data be read, he smiled slightly in the cold air. Truth was, he was a coward too. The decision had been made for him, the path laid out, humanity safe and sound thanks to Jack. And here he was screaming in the wind that it wasn’t right because it had hurt someone he loved. He was a child throwing a tantrum and shouting at the world, a coward, afraid to face a life like this.  
  
But he was also a coward with a way to make things better for himself and damn the consequences. Maybe that was why no one else had considered this. Maybe that was why Jack hadn’t even asked him to do it, even though it was within his power and Jack knew it. Maybe only Captain John Hart was selfish enough to risk humanity itself for his own happiness.  
  
As the data flicked through and fell into place he located the records for the day one ordinary Welshman had died. There, one rift spike, larger than the rest and occurring a few hours before the virus was released. Perfect.  
  
Setting his vortex manipulator to home in on that exact spike he looked over the destroyed Plass once more and wondered if he really had lost his mind. Was any one person worth that much to him? He still had Jack in body, alive and with him, was that really not enough? Did he really miss a soul, a smile and a knowing wink that much?  
  
Tilting his head back John laughed out loud, the sound carried away on the breeze, the joy of it out of place in the darkness. A few seagulls seemed to glance at him curiously and John laughed at them too, enjoying the joke.  
  
Because that was all life was. A cosmic joke. An accident of chemicals and evolution, the jokes, the sex, it was all just to cover the fact that nothing meant anything...  
  
Except Jack. Jack meant something to him.  
  
And that was enough. Hell he had done stupider things for less reason before, why not do something noble for once?  
  
Besides, maybe this way he would finally get that orgy...

 

***************************************

 

He wasn’t sure why he had expected the warehouse to look any different. It was only a few weeks earlier than before, in building terms a mere eye blink. It looked exactly the same as it would in a months time – except for the car. That certainly looked out of place here.  
  
Sliding his hand along the smooth paintwork Captain John Hart allowed himself a grin at the beauty of it. Even down and out and desperate Jack still had an eye for the gorgeous. It reminded John of a ship they had once stolen out in... He couldn’t remember exactly where, or even when, the date and place slipping away from him even as he thought of it but he remembered the ship. Sleek lines, smooth to the touch and a hell of a ride.   
  
Much like Jack had been afterwards. The buzz of adrenaline from the theft had sent them both a little crazy. They had fucked over the control panel for so long they almost drifted into the gravity well of a planet, pulling up at the last moment, Jack reaching for the controls whilst still buried in John, the pressure of his desperate lunge across the ship making John gasp-  
  
Jack probably didn’t even remember that. Just one of a thousand million memories he wouldn’t have room for.   
  
He had seen the footage of Ianto’s death. Gwen hadn’t even bothered to protect the laptop and it had been easy to copy all the data. He had been looking for clues of where to find Jack but instead he had found their recordings. The aliens. The government. The virus.  
  
Jack had promised never to forget Ianto. John was under no illusions that he would get the same courtesy, that he would be granted the honour of a mere brain cell’s space even in a head as big as Jack’s.  
  
Sniffing slightly in the London air John slid himself into the passenger seat of the car and stroked his fingertips over the panels. Slick. Very slick. He looked up as the door to the warehouse flung open and watched as Captain Jack Harkness himself emerged, his coat not quite yet settled on his body and his face blank. He was lost in his own thoughts, no doubt mulling over whatever Ianto or Gwen had said to him. Or maybe it wasn’t words; maybe he was just dwelling on the look he had seen in their eyes. The disappointment.  
  
John couldn’t help grinning as he was spotted, and leaned back in the seat with a casual air. Jack’s expression, the way it went from shock to horror to annoyance in short succession was almost humorous, if a little insulting that there was no sign of Jack being pleased to see him. Yep, that was his Jack alright.  
  
“Get out.” Short and to the point, Jack’s snarled outburst was hardly surprising but John welcomed it. It was still passion; there was still some sign of life in those blue eyes.   
  
John leaned back in the seat and laced his fingers behind his head, watching the confident stride – no, swagger, definitely swagger – of his ex partner. “You know, you look pretty good for a smear on the wall. I just hope everything...” John let his gaze drop to Jack’s crotch suggestively before his eyes slid their way back up his body, “grew back alright.”  
  
“Your concern is touching.” Jack drew level with the passenger door and folded his arms sternly, the newness of the coat now visible to John in the way it stiffly fought the creases it was being forced into. “Get out.”  
  
“Oh it wasn’t concern.” John smirked and lowered his arms, folding them across his chest to mirror Jack. “I was just offering my services as quality control tester. You know, check the merchandise, kick the wings, check you’re space worthy and all that. I always meant to ask, when you grow back can you control it at all? I mean can you, you know, alter anything...”  
  
Jack growled low in his throat and strode around the car, his fingertips resting lightly on the bonnet as he walked as if to claim ownership of it again. Swinging himself into the driver’s seat he glanced sideways at John, loathing etched into every pore.  
  
John didn’t take it personally, he knew Jack too well for that. He knew the more serious depths of loathing and hatred in the mind of Jack Harkness were reserved for one person alone – Jack Harkness. Who else could he possibly come close to loathing more than himself? That glare was nothing, just a scratch on the surface.  
  
“John, I don’t have the time to play games or banter with you. You may have noticed we have something of a crisis going on here.”  
  
“Yeah I had noticed actually. Kinda hard not to.” He shrugged casually. “I mean, usually I quite like it when my lays scream a little but I’m starting to suspect the last guy may have been lying about his age-”  
  
“John, please.” Jack’s eyes closed almost involuntarily for a moment and he rested his hands on the steering wheel, sagging slightly as he leaned on them. He turned to face John, his anger fading and a pleading tone in his voice as he looked at the man he had once called partner. “I don’t have time for this.”  
  
“Actually you do, and it’s funny you should mention time...” John dug in his jacket pocket for a moment before pulling out the battered newspaper he had taken from the motel. He slapped the creased white paper down on the dashboard and patted it once. “In fact, it’s what I decided to get you for your birthday.”  
  
“I don’t have a birthday...” Jack whispered quietly as he reached out, his fingers pulling the paper towards him. Dragging his fingertips over it carefully, as though confirming it was real, he read the date and the headline announcing the assassination of the Prime Minister; the near collapse of the school system, with record numbers of schools withdrawing from state control; riots...  
  
“Oh my God,” Jack breathed quietly.  
  
“If I wanted to big it up,” John said quietly, his tone light but his face serious, “I’d say I was giving you all those months back but I’m not really. The paper’s just to show I’m serious, Time Travel tradecraft 101 and all that – would’ve brought something more personal but you know me, always skimping on the gifts. The truth is-”  
  
John took a deep breath and draped his arm across the edge of the car door, fiddling with the wing mirror as he avoided Jack’s gaze. “Truth is I’m giving you one day. Less than that I suppose, just one moment really.” He turned back to face Jack, raising an eyebrow almost accusingly. “You’ve got one chance not to screw it up this time.”  
  
Jack shook his head slowly, not understanding, lost in the news stories and trying to make sense of what was happening. John opened the car door as though to go, shifting in his seat before Jack’s hand shot out, long fingers wrapping themselves around his wrist, holding him tightly.  
  
“I don’t understand,” Jack stated simply, “this...” He slammed the newspaper down against the dashboard hard, his palm slapping down against it with a bang. “This proves that what I’m doing now works, that humanity continues. Why the hell would I risk that?” He pushed the paper away, his fingers arching on the paper before flicking it across the dashboard back to John as he released his wrist. “What’s the con, John?”  
  
Captain John Hart rolled his eyes and slammed the door closed again before twisting to face Jack. “I’d forgotten about that goddamn noble streak of yours, ‘Captain’. Why can’t you just trust me for once when I say that that future is not one you want to be a part of?”  
  
“Because I know you,” Jack snarled, leaning close and grabbing John’s jacket, his fingers tightening over the white braid. “You’d endanger whole causalities for a bet, why should you have suddenly changed now?” John grabbed his hand and lurched across the car, pushing Jack back against the door, hands grabbing his shoulders tight and forcing him back against the rigid frame.  
  
“Because you changed me!” John shouted, his face twisted in rage before quickly lowering his voice. Pushing Jack back into the seat, he moved away again, the corner of his eye catching a flicker of movement through the filthy glass of the warehouse windows. “Because,” he said quietly, “for once in my life I want to be on the right side rather than just going with the stronger side.” He grabbed the newspaper off the dash and held it up to Jack. “Because the world this paper comes from is a bleak and empty place and I don’t want to live there.”  
  
John could feel every emotion showing on his face with complete and total honesty for the first time in... Well, for as long as he could remember. He had always known how to act, how to fake it but this felt different, this time _was_ different.  
  
And he could see Jack felt it too.  
  
“How...” He could see Jack swallowing hard, as though his throat could remember screaming and suddenly hurt in memory. “How can I save the children this time?” he whispered softly, his eyes pleading with John. “What should I do?”  
  
John watched him closely for a long moment, assessing what to reveal and what to hide. Too much knowledge was a dangerous thing, and could change more than he intended. He had come back to save one life only, even though there were at least two at stake.  
  
But he couldn’t save both.  
  
There was a fine line between truth and lies. And the best place to hide a lie had always been inside a truth.  
  
“Go to Thames House,” he finally answered, his voice low. Jack opened his mouth in confusion, nodding once and no doubt about to say he always intended to, but John stopped him. “Alone. You have to go alone. Shoot the guards if you have to, make them evacuate the building, whatever, but you have to face them alone. It’s the only way.”  
  
“Why?” Jack asked in confusion, “why should that make a diff...”   
  
John could see the blood drain from Jack’s face as his original plan echoed through his head. Two to stay behind, to watch and record and wait. One to run and hide, to be the ace up their sleeve. And two to fight.  
  
“Why should Ianto stay behind?” Jack’s voice croaked slightly, fear seemingly drawing all the moisture from his throat, hurting him as surely as any blow. “What’s going to happen?”  
  
“Because...” John paused, hoping this would be enough, that Jack wouldn’t ask any more questions. Taking a deep breath he looked straight into those blue eyes that had once stared at nebulas and exotic dancers with equal fervour; that roamed over ships as though they were women and women as though they were all mysterious aliens; that devoured with a simple stare and drew in their prey with a smiling shine. He hadn’t seen them this blue in months. It was time to bring them back  
  
“Because,” John stated simply, “he needs to be with that family of yours instead.”  
  
That was it, the moment that changed Jack Harkness’ life yet again, whole universes seeming to splinter and form around them in that car. A whole realm of possible realities expanding and contracting and deciding on the path they wanted to take.  
  
“How... How could you know?” Jack gasped quietly, shock seeming to emanate from every cell of his body.   
  
John slid the newspaper down onto his lap and opened it to the puzzles page. Folding it so Jack could see, he pointed to the daily Sudoku puzzle; the simple grid of numbers had been filled in but the puzzle was far from being solved.  
  
Instead, in Jack’s handwriting, were the same three numbers over and over again, filling every single space of every single square on the grid, the handwriting becoming more obsessive with each numeral. Just three numbers, over and over again.  
  
456.  
  
“How do I know Captain Jack Harkness has a daughter and grandson?” John threw the newspaper into Jack’s lap and finally got out of the car, shrugging his jacket tighter around his body before tossing off a ragged salute and starting to walk away. The breeze tried to steal his voice but Jack could still hear every word as the conman, thief, lover and killer walked away, his part completed.  
  
“Because,” he shouted back, looking over his shoulder for one last glance at the man he hoped to see again someday in the future, “Captain Jack Harkness told me he did.”

 

*******************************

 

Captain Jack Harkness threw the newspaper into the fire where the flames attacked the simple paper, curling it and breaking it, erasing any trace of the ink and the timeline it represented. Just like time devoured the lives of all those around him, the flames ate away at the newspaper, destroying it without pause or remorse.  
  
He watched as it began to curl and twist in the glow; the last legible letters he could see were his own handwriting starting to burn away. Dark spots took the image of the numbers from his sight, but they were still burned into his mind. Finally the paper began to fall to ashes, joining the rest of the rubbish in the barrel. It was what happened to everything in Jack’s life, everything good and wonderful burnt and faded away. And he was left behind.  
  
Jack shivered slightly as he moved away from the heat a little, finally content that the evidence had been destroyed and no one else would see it. The question was, what was he to do with that knowledge?   
  
He had never consciously set out to change the past before, never had a set knowledge of what was supposed to happen. Of course with the agency - and the Doctor - he had changed it on several occasions, but almost always by accident. He had never _deliberately_ set out to erase one line and replace it with another more to his liking.  
  
It felt weird. He could almost hear the Doctor's disapproving tones talking about fixed points and things that can't be changed, the stern voice practically shouting in his head. For a moment he considered letting things play out as planned, taking the safe path. Doing what the Doctor would do, and accepting the consequences of his actions.  
  
Jack snorted quietly as he realised the irony of that thought. The Doctor had erased an entire year from time before, a year Jack still remembered. It was a shame _he_ didn’t have a handy paradox machine lying around to use as an excuse to do what he wanted.   
  
He knew he wasn’t being fair though. The Doctor had sacrificed his whole race for the sake of the universe, twelve children was nothing in comparison. Not even when racked up on the tally with all the other lives Jack had seen - or caused to be - snuffed out in his time. Jack was just an amateur in the genocide and sacrifice stakes, and it was wrong to compare himself to the Doctor.   
  
But then another voice whispered to him quietly, a soft memory of breath on his neck and a body in his arms. Ianto's.  
  
They had talked, just once, right after Owen's resurrection, about letting go. Ianto had asked him not to bring anyone else back, to let them go peacefully when the time came.   
  
And Jack had promised, no gloves, no zombies, no alien technology or mystical forces. After Owen, Jack had no choice but to agree; the consequences of his actions had been all too hideous and real to deny. Twelve lives lost and their friend changed into something new, all the best parts of his life taken from him. It wasn’t worth it just to stop their own grief.  
  
But this wasn't the same. This wasn't bringing anyone back to life - this way they would never have died at all. It didn't count.  
  
Did it?  
  
Jack’s eyes began to hurt from the smoke and the brightness of the flames and he rubbed his hands over them tiredly. Ianto hadn’t spoken to him since he got back from calling Frobisher, he was probably still adjusting to Jack's revelations, and for once Jack was grateful for the distance between them. This decision was going to be hard enough, without having a living reminder of what he stood to lose if he messed this up standing right next to him.  
  
Jack moved over to the steps of one of the warehouse entrances, sinking down onto them and letting the chill of the stone seep through his body, replacing the heat of the fire on his skin. Placing his head in his hands he tried to make sense of it all, to work out _what_ that future John had shown him held. What would drive him back into the arms of Captain John Hart?  
  
Had something happened to Alice? To Steven? To Ianto? To Gwen, her baby, her husband? Ianto's family? Why was there nothing left to keep him here, which of them had he lost?   
  
Just one, or all of them?  
  
A shiver passed through him, that sensation this century liked to call "someone walking on my grave." In the agency they had called it "ripples in the timeline". He knew it was the same difference really, a sensation so deep in the very atomic structure of your body, it has no possible expression other than to make you shiver. But his body was aware, on some level, that there had been a change, it had sensed something in a very primal way. It knew that something was happening. It just had no way of interpreting it in a way he could understand.  
  
Was John asking him to keep Ianto away to save Ianto? Or to have Ianto save Alice? Gwen was supposed to take care of the attack team, the ones that had Alice, did something happen to her?  
  
Was something going to go wrong at Thames House? Or did they never make it, did they crash the car on the way there?   
  
What if’s. A Time Traveller's worst nightmare. And a quick route to insanity.  
  
Jack barely heard Gwen start to speak. He caught the word COBRA but didn't really hear it, desperately savouring every second of peace, trying to get more time to plan.   
  
He had been given the day again, but it wasn't enough time, could never be enough time for something like this. He had driven away from the warehouse in a daze, more determined than ever to get Frobisher to let his family go, hoping that would be enough to change this path. But the call had not gone well. They had to go back to plan B. They had to take action.  
  
But what was the right action to take?  
  
"Gold Command meeting’s about to start."   
  
Jack looked up at Ianto's yell and in that second, seeing him there, he felt that shiver again. Was it some foreshadowing of the future John had come from? Or simply that fear he felt every time they went to work, that fear that this would be the day he had to say goodbye?  
  
Standing up quickly, Jack strode over to join his team, watching alongside them and growing sicker with every passing second. Lies and secrets and self serving governments. He could live a thousand lifetimes and some things would never change.  
  
No. They would change. This could not continue; it had to stop.  
  
And he would stop it.  
  
Alone.

 

*******************************

 

“We’ve got enough evidence recorded here to destroy every person in that room.” Jack watched as Gwen spoke, the shake of her head showing her disbelief as she gestured towards the screen.   
  
Normally Jack would feel some sort of triumph at this victory, maybe a small grin at the thought of getting back in control. But not this time. This time there were not going to be any winners. He had dealt with the devil back in 1965 and those sort of bargains always had a price...  
  
One thing at a time.  
  
“And we can use it to force our way into Thames House, finally get face to face with this thing,” Jack said quietly, his face blank as he thought through what he had to do next. They weren’t going to understand what he was about to do, could never understand the secrets he had kept from them, especially about his-  
  
“And get your family released,” Gwen added, jolting him out of his own thoughts as she echoed them. It felt weird that they knew, that his secret, one of so many, was out. He didn’t feel like he deserved the trust and acceptance they were giving him. They should be feeling betrayed, deceived, anything but this.  
  
He remembered the slightly guilty – yet, just _daring_ him to say anything - look that Ianto had shot him when Gwen had first mentioned them. That stern stare, challenging him to make something of it, standing up to him. But actually he was simply grateful it had been Ianto who had had to tell her.   
  
It had been hard enough seeing the look on Ianto’s face.   
  
All those nights when he had listened to Ianto talking about his family, all those stories and half truths and contradictions... At least he had known his lover and something of what made him the man he was with Jack. But Jack had denied him the simple decency of returning the favour, of revealing... What? That he had loved before? That he had shared with a woman a life he could never have with Ianto?  
  
That there was hope, that not everyone who did their job died young, that sometimes, just sometimes, there was life after Torchwood? That he wanted so very much for Ianto to experience that – even if it meant losing him as he had Alice and her mother?  
  
Shaking off the regret he took a deep breath. Time to get to work.  
  
“Right, everyone know what they’re doing?” Brief nods from all round greeted him as they began to move, quietly and efficiently shifting into action.  
  
“What if I can’t get Lois to agree to this, Jack?” Gwen asked with concern. Jack had to admit to himself she had a point.  
  
Lois. She was an unknown, another pawn in place, ready to attack – or to be sacrificed. Just another normal person whose life had changed because of Torchwood. But he had faith in her. She had been so brave already and more than proven herself worthy of a place on the team; assuming there was any team left at the end of this.   
  
“She hasn’t let us down yet,” he replied, honestly believing that she would do it. She knew the stakes. As for everyone else... “Rhys, you ok?” He watched the man nod and could almost feel a smile forming on his face at the determined yet scared look he received. He knew Rhys wasn’t scared for himself but for Gwen. He hadn’t signed up for this, he was doing this for love. For her.   
  
That made him not just their secret weapon but maybe even the bravest of them all.  
  
Jack looked round as Ianto brought the guns over and took his, loading and cocking it swiftly before hesitating. It was now or never.  
  
“Slight change of plan,” he started, catching the quickly hidden surprise on Ianto’s face, “Ianto, I want you to head out of the city, back to Cardiff.” He spoke quickly, trying to get it out without giving them a chance to interrupt or object. “Odds are they are holding Alice and Steven somewhere closer to home and I need you free to go get them as soon as possible.”  
  
“You’re sending me away?” Ianto asked quietly, his face blank but the hurt just audible in his voice.  
  
“ _No_.” Jack leaned forwards, ignoring the confused looks from the others at the change of plan and placed his hands on Ianto’s shoulders. “I’m trusting you to get my grandson out of there. And whilst you’re at it I’m sure that there’s another pair of kids in the area who could do with a quick day trip. Just in case.”  
  
“Hang on, just in case of what?” Rhys asked quickly, “I thought Gwen was going to be going to get taken to them? You said she would be fine, that she would be safe once she joined them, are you just trying to prote-“  
  
“Rhys, I will be fine, that’s not what Jack means, I just can’t be in two places at once and I have to stay with Clem,“ Gwen began, before Rhys cut her off again. Their argument was rapidly deteriorating into an almost typical married couple dispute that was so _normal_ it actually make Jack feel stronger. As though it reminded him what they were fighting for.  
  
“Then I’ll go back to Cardiff and you can join me,” Rhys replied, “I can stay with you- “  
  
“Rhys, I love you but you don’t even know how to hold a gun, we need-“  
  
“I’ll go.” Ianto spoke so quietly he should not have been heard over them but instantly they stopped, the argument fading as quickly as it had begun. Everyone turned to look at him but he only had eyes for Jack.  
  
“Thank you.” Jack could feel his heart start to race, his head full of so many different possibilities, but they were on their way, changing history. From here on in it would be uncharted territory, no friendly face to guide him as to his mistakes.  
  
No more second chances.  
  
“But,” Ianto added quickly, “I want to take the Porsche.”  
  
“No,” Jack said sternly, a faint ghost of a smile on his lips for the first time in what felt like days. “I’m taking the car, especially after you lost the last one.”   
  
Ianto considered for a moment, a twinkle in his eye suggesting Jack may yet find forgiveness for all his past sins in those blue depths. Someday. Once he had earned it.   
  
“At least let me ride shotgun to Thames House,” Ianto counter offered, “I’ll head off as soon as you’re inside.” He smiled slightly. “Besides, once you’re there you won’t need the car so I’ll take it then.”  
  
Glancing at Gwen, Jack and Ianto caught her smiling with amusement at them and they grinned back. The three of them sharing one last moment together; the last remnants of the team ready for one more battle. Nodding to them both, Jack reached out and rested his hands on their shoulders.  
  
“Let’s go stand up to them.”   
  
Letting go, he strode away, Ianto right beside him as they moved in unison, tucking their guns into their waistbands. They didn’t say a word as they strode off, so much left unsaid between them that would need to be resolved later. Secrets and lies always came into the light at some point.  
  
But for the moment he had his Ianto by his side, ready to fight for what they believed in.  
  
And that was good enough for now.

 

**********************************

 

Jack swung the car around the corner too fast, nearly crashing into the traffic jam ahead of him, and swore loudly. It was only when the sound of his own voice surprised him that he realised they hadn’t spoken a word during the whole journey.   
  
Watching the slow progress of the queue of vehicles Jack took a moment to glance over at his... lover? Partner? Colleague? Friend? Even in his own head he had trouble finding the right words sometimes, and he had been more thrown than he would care to admit by the whole couples conversation just a few days – and a lifetime - ago.   
  
Ianto looked tense, his whole body on edge as he shifted in his seat, eyeing up the line of traffic and Jack could almost see him calculating the distances and speeds, working out if it would be faster to walk. Maybe they should have stolen another motorbike instead of a car. That might have been quicker. Not to mention how much fun they had had on the last bike, the feel of their arms wrapped around each other, the way even the idling engine had still sent gentle vibrations through the bike...  
  
He shook off the distraction and regretted for a moment that he hadn't insisted on Rhys giving them a few minutes peace and quiet back in the warehouse. Hell, they both could have used some stress release and right now he wished he had offered Rhys a few alternative 'serving suggestions' for his damn beans.   
  
Of course, whether Ianto would still be so keen on that kind of unwinding now that Jack had told him about Alice was another matter. She seemed to sit between them, dividing them, the metaphorical elephant in the room even though they were on their own together for the first time in what felt like days. Jack had to admit, part of him was actually less worried about facing the 456 than facing that conversation with Ianto when it finally came.  
  
The traffic began to move a little and they crawled forwards, Ianto shifting to almost stand up in the seat for a moment to take in the situation. “Jack, we’re never going to get through this in time. We’re going to have to walk.” Jack nodded and shifted in his seat, watching the way the drivers around him were starting to come to the same conclusion and began to abandon their vehicles.  
  
“Fine, but no _we_. Turn the car around and get going; it’s time to split up,” Jack replied. But his stern gaze faded as he followed Ianto's finger as he indicated behind them at the growing queue of traffic forming at their rear.  
  
“I would if there was anywhere to go,” Ianto pointed out. “I’ll come with you as far as Thames House, or until we find a bike or something I can take instead. If Lois does her part properly maybe I can even requisition something sporty or secret service style, maybe with some Q branch type extras.”   
  
Jack hesitated, catching something of a lie in the forced cheer in Ianto’s voice, but nodded anyway. The truth was he would be grateful of the company; the whole situation and John’s warnings were unnerving him more than he could have imagined. Leaving the keys in the ignition, Jack got out of the car and slammed the door.   
  
Looking up and down the the road once, Jack began to weave his way between the cars and over to the pavements, Ianto shifting to walk alongside him before getting out his phone. Even with the jam they had made it close enough to their destination that it was time to make their move. Time to see if they would take the bait.  
  
“It’s me.” Jack listened as Ianto started the conversation, imagining his sister on the other end of the line. He couldn't help wondering if she looked much like him, if her accent was as broad as his could be when he was making a point - or as soft as when he hid it, mellow and subtle. One thing was sure, if she was anything like Ianto she must have been going crazy with worry about him. “It’s only just beginning.”  
  
Jack felt a moments guilt as he listened in on the call. Ianto had insisted on making sure she knew he was alright, that he was safe, even going so far as to set up secret signals with a neighbour. Even in all the chaos he had thought of her, of making sure she didn't worry.  
  
Jack had rarely given Alice the same courtesy. He had run off with the Doctor without telling anyone, even her, and hadn’t given it a moments thought.   
  
It was strange, he knew he was immortal and that should be reassurance enough for everyone else around him. But every time he came back to life near Ianto he saw it in those blue eyes. Ianto was worried about him, scared for him, fearing that maybe, just maybe, it wasn't forever at all. Every hug, every time Ianto comforted him after a death he had been showing his relief that Jack was okay.   
  
Jack had never thought that Alice might be worried too. He had given her his phone number but never thought what would go through her mind if she one day rang it and he didn’t answer.  
  
As Ianto hung up, Jack could see the grim set to his face. His goodbyes had been said, for now anyway. For a moment, Jack felt a shiver of fear run through him, as though the conversation had been a foreshadowing, a clue as to what was to come. As Thames House came closer Jack couldn’t help remembering the look on John’s face, the insistence in his voice.  
  
Jack had to go in alone.   
  
They turned the corner and stopped as one, their target finally in sight, and both instinctively looked up the floors, counting their way through the windows until they found floor thirteen. It was purely his imagination he was sure, but for a moment Jack felt as though he knew exactly what Clem was talking about; he could smell them.  
  
Jack glanced across the road and, grabbing Ianto’s hand to guide him, dragged him into the shadows of a nearby building. Better to stay out of sight until it was time. Signaling Gwen that they were in position, Jack began to count down. Five minutes should be enough.  
  
It wasn’t until he had finished with Gwen that he realised he was still holding Ianto’s hand, holding on tight as though afraid to let go, of losing him like he had Gray if he let go for even a second. Looking down, Jack could see white pressure marks where he was gripping too hard, the edge of one fingernail digging into soft skin. A slight hint of pain was on Ianto’s face but he hadn’t said a word, simply squeezed back. Loosening his grip slightly Jack smiled apologetically.  
  
“Sorry.”   
  
“It’s okay.” Ianto’s voice was soft, his gaze locked on Thames House but Jack could tell all his concentration was on Jack. “Nice to know you still want me around.”   
  
Jack sighed softly, regretting the pain deeper than a few bruised fingers that he was causing, and squeezed Ianto’s hand softly. “I always want you around.”   
  
“Just not in there." Turning to face him, Ianto looked at him questioningly, something like suspicion or hurt in his stare. "Why?”   
  
Jack hesitated, his eyes flicking to the building, and kept his voice casual and as carefree as he could. “Maybe I faced them alone before and want to keep the symmetry? Maybe I just feel like it would be daft to have all our people where they can be seen?" He grinned slightly. "Maybe I just want all the glory for myself?”   
  
“Well, you do make a dashing hero.” Jack was grateful at the small smile that formed on Ianto’s lips before the other man looked away again. “Maybe you’re right, perhaps this time you don’t need a sidekick after all.”   
  
Jack reacted instinctively, grabbing Ianto’s shoulders and pressing him up against the building, leaning against him. Ianto’s eyes were wide in shock and he could feel his hands reflexively rising to press against Jack’s arms, pushing him just slightly. Jack looked deep into those blue eyes and realised that some things did have to be said. Even if only once.  
  
“You will never be a sidekick to me.” Leaning close he kissed the younger man fiercely, trying with all his body to reassure him that he wasn’t just a sidekick, a fling, a passing fuck or a blip in time. He could feel Ianto’s fingers gripping him back, teeth and tongue and lips fighting for control as he pushed Jack away, flipping them both so Jack was against the wall instead. As Ianto took control he pulled back, something of that Welsh fire visible in his eyes again.  
  
“I’d better not be.” With a soft smirk Ianto stepped back, straightening his waistcoat and glancing across the road, making sure they hadn’t been spotted. “Not unless you plan on getting me a cape and some red leather boots to make it official.”   
  
Laughing with joy at the sudden joke in all the darkness, Jack lunged forwards and kissed him again. Their embrace was more equal this time, no fighting, just two partners, no one in charge as they lost themselves in the moment before a soft beeping drew their attention. It was time.  
  
There was no need for more words, just a tight lipped smile and a nod, as they moved apart. Without a backwards glance, Jack headed across the road, moving purposefully towards Thames House at last. His movements drew the attention of the guards whilst Ianto stepped back into the shadows, watching with silent concern.  
  
Jack marched confidently into the lobby of the building, his gun held high above his head, and resisted a grin at the somewhat panicked attempts of the armed guards around him to stop him. Slamming his gun down onto the counter he looked up at the slightly frightened security guard and felt a moments sympathy for them. Anti terrorism training was one thing. Anti alien training was quite another and the past few days must have been a nightmare for them.  
  
“Captain Jack Harkness. I’m Torchwood.”  
  
It was a good thing he was here to wake them up then.

 

******************************

Jack stepped into the lift and glanced up at the cameras in the ceiling, wondering who was watching him even now, studying his every move.   
  
Watching and waiting for him to mess up.   
  
As the lift doors opened Jack was already on the move, twisting sideways to slip through the widening gap, and spotted the technician almost instantly. Slipping the piece of paper out of his pocket he handed it to the old man, his fingers pressing the curl of white into the other man's palm.  
  
“I want to feed the live TV pictures directly to this number, can you do that?”   
  
“I can do it,” he replied smoothly, a professional servant at work. Jack resisted a shudder at the thought of even sharing any trace of the term 'civil servant' that applied to the people who worked here.  
  
Shifting to get to work, Jack ignored the other man, barely noticing as the technician trailed behind him. Striding down the corridors he could feel his heart start to race at the prospect of facing them at last. He had been shot, blown up, imprisoned, buried alive, threatened and blackmailed. His family were being held captive, his friends were in danger and it was all because of these creatures.  
  
And him. He had been part of it all before, he had gone along with the rest and lived to regret it. This was his chance to redeem himself for the mistakes of the past.  
  
Providing he didn’t repeat them of course.  
  
Standing opposite the tank, Jack took a deep breath and stood up straight, feeling the strength of his armour, his coat and his identity, slipping into place. It wasn't his birth name and he hadn't earned his rank the first time round, but it was _his_ , all of it, the clothes, the name, the title. It was how he defined himself, the face he presented to the world. And it was time for the Captain to get to work. Smoothly, he raised his voice and began to speak.  
  
“I’m Captain Jack Harkness. I’ve dealt with you lot before and I’m here to explain why this time you’re not getting what you want.”  
  
***********************  
  
Ianto Jones slipped the bluetooth earpiece out of his pocket and quickly used his stolen phone to call Gwen. Barely saying hello she patched him through the server and fed him the audio of what she was seeing on her laptop. Standing silently, Ianto listened as Jack began to speak, his mind picturing the tank with his boss stood in front of it. He wondered if Jack had his arms by his side, letting his coat hang flat against his body, or if he would be gesturing, maybe pacing the floor like a Shakespearean actor, the long lines of the coat flying out behind him...  
  
Ianto really did like that coat.  
  
Listening in, Ianto grinned as he heard Jack start off with an old saying and rolled his eyes impatiently to himself. “Never mind the philosophy Jack,” he whispered under his breath, “tell them to get the hell off our planet.” A soft giggle in his ear let him know Gwen had heard him and a soft whisper echoed back to him.  
  
“He does like the philosophy,” she agreed quietly and he could hear the teasing grin in her voice.  
  
“There’s a time and place for philosophy," Ianto added, "this is the time and place for a gun. Preferably a big one. Or a rocket launcher.” She giggled again and shushed him as she concentrated on Jack again and Ianto fell quiet for a moment, listening to Jack's voice and letting it soothe him. This was going to work.  
  
Movement caught his eye and, glancing across the street, Ianto frowned as he spotted the guards outside Thames House hurrying around the building, as though something was happening. “Gwen, anything happening inside?”  
  
“Not much, Jack’s still talking to them." There was a slight pause and he could hear her smile. "He looks great by the way. Nice job with the coat.”   
  
"Thanks." Ianto fought back a smile at the thought and stared at the guards, his face turning serious as he watched. Something wasn’t right. “Gwen, the guards here are up to something. You sure there's nothing going on?"  
  
"There's nothing from Jack. And my new friends are behaving themselves too."   
  
Ianto frowned, assessing the situation and the bad feeling in his gut. It was cliched but he suddenly felt as though he had to get to Jack, some instinct screaming at him to _run_. Something was definitely wrong.  
  
"Gwen, I’m going into Thames House, Jack may need back up.” Decision made, Ianto began to move even as Gwen protested in his ear.  
  
“Ianto no, he wants you to stay hidden, what are you doing?”   
  
Sliding his hand behind his back, Ianto Jones gripped the handle of his gun tightly as he jogged across the street towards Thames House. The guards were definitely up to something, their worried expressions sweeping the street before focusing on him, alert and scared. Approaching the door, Ianto pulled out his gun and raised it harmlessly above his head, the guards turning as one to aim at him.  
  
“I’m Ianto Jones, I’m Torchw-“  
  
He never got a chance to finish the sentence.

 

**************************************************

 

“ _We’re adapting right now and we’re making this a war!”_ Jack’s voice was slightly tinny over the small speakers but in spite of her worry about Ianto Gwen almost cheered as Jack stood face to face with the aliens, confident that this would work.   
  
It had to work.   
  
Glancing round at Johnson she felt a moment's smugness and an urge to point to the screen and say 'there, that's what we do. We stand up to the monsters.' It was high time somebody did and she felt that warm pride that this was what she did, _this_ was how one person could change the world.  
  
 _“Then the fight begins.”_   
  
Gwen froze, holding her breath even as her heart began to pound, her face pale as she watched the screen. No, they had to back down, it made no sense for them to-  
  
 _“We’re waiting for your response!”_ Jack shouted on the small screen, his voice strong but she could hear the tension in it as he spoke. Tension she and everyone else watching could feel too, every muscle and nerve on edge with apprehension. Leaning forwards, she could see nothing but the screen, hear nothing but Jack and the hiss of the speaker as she waited with him, waited for...  
  
Gwen jumped as a loud bang echoed through the line and reflexively reached for the laptop before realising nothing had changed; Jack was still facing the tank. Swearing, Gwen grabbed the phone, a new fear gripping her body as she realised what she had actually heard. “Ianto?" she shouted into the phone, "Ianto what’s going on?”  
  
 _“Action has been taken.”_   
  
"No..." Staring at the screen, Gwen gasped as alarms shrieked into life at Thames House and shook her head quickly. “Ianto, what’s happening, Ianto?! Please Ianto, talk to me, what’s going on?”  
  
 _“What have you done?”_   
  
“Ianto, please, what-“  
  
 _”A virus has been released...”_ Gwen turned slowly, all her attention back on the screen but she still missed the next part as her heart began to pound, suddenly sick to her stomach. Jack was in the building – and Ianto had been going in. Not to mention all the ordinary workers there and -  
  
“Oh God.”  
  
**********  
  
Jack ran from the room, his boots steady on the floor but his heart pounding as he shouted to the guards, trying desperately to get them to act to try to stop it. He had to do something, he had to save them, he had to... All those people.  
  
What had he done?  
  
Running back into the room, Jack drew his gun and pointed it at the tank, fury and desperation etched onto his face. “You’ve made your point, now stop this and we can talk.”  
  
“You are dying, even now.” Jack shook his head. Not him. Not now, not ever, he would go on and on and on but these bastards wouldn't, not if he could stop them. Pulling the trigger, Jack began to fire at the tank, knowing deep down that his bullets were unlikely to have any effect but still shooting, still trying.   
  
For a moment he was back on the Gamestation, gun in hand, aiming for the eye stalks, concentrating his aim on one spot and hoping it would weaken, it would be enough... For a moment, he felt like he had then, like if he failed he really would die this time. And he kept firing. It felt good, the feel of the gun in his hands and the chance to actually take some action, no matter how futile.   
  
But not as good the sudden realisation at the back of his mind.  
  
Ianto _would_ have been here. Ianto _would_ have been dying, right now, but instead he was safe. Because they _had_ changed the future. Ianto Jones was still alive, right now, and would be when Jack revived. Just as he always was.  
  
As he fired at the tank Jack began to laugh, light headed as the virus began to make its way into his lungs, and suddenly jubilant. This was never going to have worked, it didn’t matter if Ianto was here or not, it had been a bad idea – which also meant they must have found another way to save the children.  
  
And they would once again.  
  
Dropping to his knees Jack carried on firing until the gun clicked, empty at last. In a last, futile expression of hatred he threw the discharged weapon at the tank, watching through blurring eyes as it bounced off the glass. This battle was lost. But the war wasn’t over, not yet, not for him. And not for Ianto Jones.  
  
As the aliens began to shriek, Jack gave in to the darkness and collapsed, welcoming death like the old lover it was. As he closed his eyes he smiled, just slightly, and whispered into the darkness, too softly to be heard over the shrieks.  
  
**************************************  
  
"Clem?" Gwen held Clem tight, desperately trying to do something, anything, but instead reduced to watching in horror as the elderly man screamed and suffered. She had tried so hard to help him, to save him, and instead all she could do was try to comfort him in his last moments. She could feel the tears running down her face just as the blood was running down his and she felt as though something inside her was fading too.   
  
With one last cry he finally died; the only child from the twelve who would find that release.  
  
Laying his body down carefully, Gwen looked up at the screen. Brushing the back of her hand against her lips to stifle a sob she saw Jack’s body on the small screen, slumped and still on the floor before the tank. But just Jack. Scrambling across the floor she grabbed the phone again, hoping against hope that this time...  
  
“Ianto? Ianto are you there?” Checking the handset she realised the call had dropped and hastily redialled his number, listening for the soft purr of the ring at the other end. But instead she got a recorded voice telling her the other number was unavailable at this time.  
  
Dead line.  
  
Sinking to her knees in the suddenly cold warehouse, Gwen wrapped her arms around herself and stared into the distance. She was surrounded by armed soldiers but she was suddenly feeling so very alone.  
  
They were gone.

 

*************************************

 

Gwen paced slowly across the floor of the sports hall, concentrating on placing one foot in front of the other, trying to keep the noise down - not that she would awaken any of the sleeping forms laid out across it.  
  
She could almost feel the points of her heels damaging the wooden floor as she went, could feel the way her foot found the floor but then slipped just that little tiny bit lower. She could hear the click of her heel echoing around the vast space and feel the soft twist on each step as she moved. Her mind fixated on the details of each step to protect her, to help her block out the sight of the rows of bodies around her. Or to forget about the one body in particular she was heading for.  
  
She knelt down and gently pulled back the red sheet. Smiling sadly she reached out a hand to straighten a stray lock of dark hair.  
  
It wasn't fair that he even looked amazing whilst dead, even better this time than he had after Abaddon. She had seen some of the other bodies in the room, the blue tint to their skin and the sheer finality of it all. Part of her wondered, if she sat here long enough with them, if she kissed them too, that the fairytales she once believed in would come true for her. But instead she was beside the only one here that could wake up, that must always wake up even when everyone around him was dying.  
  
Even he couldn't win against an enemy that could do all this.  
  
Taking Jack’s hand in hers she watched and waited, content to sit, knowing someone needed to be here, to tell him what had happened. Finally, under her patient gaze, Captain Jack breathed once more, his eyes finding her almost immediately.   
  
“Gwen?” he asked in surprise. Squeezing his hand softly she nodded and helped him to sit up, his confused grin almost breaking her heart. “Where’s Ianto? What’s going on?”  
  
“Jack,” she said softly, her old training kicking in by instinct and her policeman’s tone coming through as she looked at him. The bad news voice, Rhys used to call it. “There was an... incident. It's Ianto, he tried to come into Thames House after you-“  
  
***************************************  
  
 _Captain John Hart grinned as Ianto Jones dropped to the ground, mere feet from the entrance to Thames House. Lowering his gun John watched as the guards began to fall back, scanning the area for any trace of the shooter even as one of them began to crawl towards the injured man, kicking his weapon aside and quickly turning his body over. John laughed quietly to himself as he observed them, knowing exactly how bad the damage was, which bones had broken and muscles been shredded, what the price would be.  
  
He knew his own aim too well. He had done what he needed to do.   
  
As the alarms began to sound the guards turned, only to find the doors slamming shut in their faces, locking them out. Lockdown. The virus had been released. Everything was going according to plan.  
  
Activating his vortex manipulator, John took one last look at the man he had just shot, wishing he hadn’t had to damage such a nice suit in the process. He had known that Ianto wouldn’t listen, that he would try to go in after Jack, that no matter what Jack did Ianto would be here, right now.   
  
Time resisted being changed in subtle ways, instincts twisting as people acted in ways they didn't understand to protect the timeline, to make things happen as they were supposed to. Some called it fate, that being in the right place at the right time when something good happened. Some called it a terrible accident when it was the wrong place and wrong time, when just a few minutes earlier or later could have saved a life. But always, it was time, the siren call of a universe choosing it's path and bending the mere mortals to its will.   
  
John had seen it in Ianto's eyes from the moment he met him, the way he was almost longing for death, his unhealthy obsession with it. He had known Ianto just wouldn't be able to resist the pull of his original fate. He knew he would still come here, now.  
  
And John would be waiting for him.   
  
That was the problem with the good guys; they were always too predictable for their own good.   
  
As the scene vanished from his sight John laughed into the vortex, feeling time swirl around him like an eager pet welcoming him home, and wondered what sort of world he would find when he landed again – and whether he would finally have _his _Jack back again now..._  
  
**************************  
  
"Ianto?" Jack could feel his heart pounding as he spoke even though he felt as though it had stopped, as though time itself had frozen in place.   
  
No, not after all that, not him, not _him_.   
  
"Gwen?" he pleaded urgently, fear on his face as he held her hand tight, not even noticing her shake her head, trying to shush him, to calm him. "Please, where is he? Where's Ianto?"  
  
"He was shot-"   
  
*************************  
  
Ianto Jones pushed through the door into the sports hall somewhat awkwardly, the cast on his leg banging against the wood of the door loudly and making Jack look round. Ianto felt a mess and knew he looked it too. His shredded suit trousers were hanging loosely over the cast covering his shin and still bore the blood stains. He moved stiffly, his knees sore and swollen from his collapse. His waistcoat was undone and his tie tucked into his pocket rather than knotted around his neck. Ianto had new cuts to match the one on his face and he felt filthy and damaged and _sore_ and a mess.  
  
Jack's face was so afraid for that second before he realised who it was, Ianto couldn’t help feeling guilty that he had missed Jack waking up, that he must have had that moment of fear that maybe, just maybe... But the joy that replaced it, that Ianto had hoped to see. It felt like they hadn't smiled for weeks.  
  
Hobbling in on his crutches Ianto looked round at the sea of bodies as Jack scrambled to his feet and hurried over. The red blanket was cast aside as Jack's boots pounded on the hard floor before he wrapped his arms around Ianto, holding him tight. Hugging back as best he could, without losing his balance, Ianto leaned against Jack and breathed deeply, enjoying the scent and warmth of him, just glad to be alive.  
  
“Sorry I didn’t reach Alice.” He could hear a strange mix between a laugh and a sob from Jack and wobbled slightly as Jack pulled back, hastily wiping a tear from him face.  
  
“It’s okay," Jack laughed gratefully, "we'll all go together." Supporting him gently Jack looked down at the cast. "I just can’t believe you got shot! And in the leg! Any idea who it was?”   
  
Ianto shrugged and glanced down at his shattered limb with a grimace, avoiding Jack's gaze so he wouldn't see the lie hidden there. “Probably just an over zealous guard who won’t admit it.” Glancing up again, Ianto smiled as Jack looked at him but couldn’t help the small shudder running through him as he realised the extent of the rows of bodies in the room. If Jack hadn’t changed his mind, he might have been lying under the next blanket. Hell, if some bastard hadn’t shot him it still could have been him...  
  
Gwen came over, smiling happily at them but with a hint of sadness. Jack pulled her into their hug, the three of them holding on tight. Leaning in close, Ianto tried his best to memorise every sensation of the pair of them, the three of them together, savouring this rare moment of peace and their narrow escape.  
  
At least he did until he nearly fell backwards, one of his crutches toppling to the floor. Laughing, Gwen hastily picked it up and helped him get settled before they looked at each other again, the jubilation at their reunion fading slightly in the cold light of the make shift morgue they were in.  
  
“So, what now?” Gwen asked quietly. As he looked at her, Ianto glanced at the guards watching them from the doorway. They had played their hand - and lost. Assuming they were even allowed another chance, what could they possibly do?  
  
Jack looked at them both, taking in the expressions of fear on their face and tried to think of something reassuring, some plan, some way out of this. Placing his hands over theirs they made their way over to the doors and surrendered to the guards there. There was a way out of this. He knew there had to be a way. He _knew_ there was.  
  
He just had no idea what it was.

 

****************************************

 

They were escorted away, different red blankets given to them this time and with the addition of a few small cushions too. The guards didn’t seem to know what to do with them, whether they were enemies or friends. The higher ups were too busy planning; the lower downs were too busy cleaning away the mess, making Thames House safe again.  
  
So, in a rare moment of compassion, the guards decided to let them sleep. Two empty offices, their owners long since sent home, or dragged away and tagged and labelled, served as temporary cells. A few of those awkward, low, cushioned seats were dragged into one to make a bed for Gwen. A few more in the other room for Ianto. But Jack was fine, he didn’t need to sleep. He didn’t want to sleep.  
  
Ianto shifted in his sleep as he lay hunched awkwardly on the seats. The red blanket moved with his sleeping body, sliding down off his bare shoulder as he settled down. In the dim light of the London night shining through the window his skin looked so pale, cold, almost as though he was not really just sleeping, as though he hadn't escaped after all.   
  
Jack sat beside him on the floor, his back resting against the seat edge and staring into nothing as he watched over him. Ianto’s suit was draped across the abandoned desk, the dark stain of the blood on his torn trousers visible even in the semi darkness.   
  
It had taken a little while for him to persuade Ianto that he needed to rest properly, at least partly undressed, so he could sleep and heal. Ianto had joked that he was just trying to get him naked but Jack’s concern for him was enough to convince him without too much effort. Ianto had been asleep for a couple of hours or so, adjusting to their new helplessness quickly and knowing all too well that sleep was precious enough to never pass up. He would need his strength if he was to be of any use to Jack.  
  
Although what use Jack himself was to anybody now, he didn’t know. Leaning his head onto his hands he watched the thin sliver of light coming through from under the door, the slight shadows of the guards feet moving as the door was quietly opened. A face peered through, nodded to him in the dark, then withdrew. Inspection over for another hour.  
  
He hoped Gwen was sleeping too. She needed to keep herself well for that baby of hers. A child. Smiling slightly in the dark he thought back to the stunned look on her face at the news – and Rhys’ indignation that they had known before him. It didn’t matter who knew first, Rhys would be the one raising that child, not them. For all his jokes to Ianto he had known, as soon as he saw that blip, that they had lost Gwen. She would be one of those few who survived Torchwood.  
  
It usually was the women. They were the ones who saw sense, who had to listen if biology caught up with them, who had to make the really hard choices between the job and the future. The dads didn’t. He should know. He had missed so much of life for the job. For a moment he felt a surge of jealousy towards Rhys. He would get to go to their child’s wedding, birthdays, see the grandchildren grow up. With any luck he would never have to watch his child die. But the best Jack could ever hope for was a few years as Uncle Jack before having to move on again. And again. And again...  
  
“They’re going to give them the children. Aren’t they?” Ianto’s voice was soft but it still made Jack jump, twisting to look at Ianto’s body behind him on the chairs. He was still facing away but when he felt Jack react, Ianto turned to face him. His expression was blank in the dim light, his eyes mere shadows instead of blue.  
  
“I guess so.” Jack sighed heavily and looked away, unable to look at Ianto, afraid of what he might see on that shadowed face. “It’s 1965 all over again.” Jack laughed bitterly and shifted, drawing his right knee up towards his chest and leaning against his leg. “And if I’m very lucky in forty years time I’ll get to do it all over again. Although hopefully without the exploding next time.”   
  
Jack could feel Ianto’s eyes on him and wondered what he would see if he turned around. Hatred? Disgust? They were what he deserved. Pity? Sympathy? He hoped not. He couldn’t bear those. But a part of him wanted them, needed them. Needed absolution for one more sin out of so many that he bore.  
  
“So what do we do now?” Ianto asked. Jack shook his head slowly and couldn’t say it, couldn't quite accept that there was nothing left to do, no battles to fight. “There must be a way to stop this. Or if not...” Jack could hear the quiet sigh behind him and could feel his heart breaking a little at the hopelessness of it. “We save as many as we can.”   
  
They sat in silence, simply lost in their own thoughts, the darkness of the office seeming to press in on them. Jack bit his lip, suddenly remembering an earlier conversation about offices and the things you could get up to in them. For a while he had had a nice little fantasy going about them being locked in an office together overnight. He’d never quite pictured this though. Waiting out the end of the world surrounded by paper and files and pencils instead of the shelter of the Hub. Watching instead of fighting. Waiting in the dark.  
  
“How did you know?” The sudden question confused Jack and finally he turned, shifting on the floor to face Ianto properly, accepting whatever awaited him in that stare.   
  
“Know what?”   
  
Ianto stirred on the seat and Jack could hear his bulky cast scratching on the chairs fibres as he tried to get comfortable. The younger man seemed to be hesitating, unsure how to phrase it. Finally, Jack watched as his lips parted and a quiet question slipped out.  
  
“How did you know I was going to die?”   
  
Jack shook his head, shock on his face and reached out to place a hand on the blanket covering Ianto’s hip. “I didn’t. I just... I had a bad feeling about that place.”   
  
Ianto shifted under the blanket, his arm emerging from its almost black looking covers, his skin pale against it in the dim room. Placing his hand on Jack’s shoulder, Ianto dragged his fingers over the stripes of his coat slowly, considering whether to push the issue. With a small grin he leaned closer, pushing the doubts away – for now at least. His lips met Jack’s, softly at first, as though confirming they were both still there. Pulling back, he nodded slightly.  
  
“Well, when you next see your bad feeling, tell him thanks from me. And to aim away from my bones next time.”  
  
In that instant Jack felt his heart skip a beat, the light catching across Ianto’s face and shining into his eyes for a second. In that view, in that moment of perfect clarity, he could see the truth. Ianto knew about John. He knew what they had done. He knew that Jack would change time itself for him. He knew the words Jack could never bring himself to say. He knew that John had-  
  
“Wait, _John_ shot you? That little-“ His outburst was lost as Ianto pulled him close again, kissing him hungrily this time, his fingers pulling at hair and clothes and skin as though desperate to prove that he was really there; that they had cheated fate and he was really still alive. Ianto was shivering slightly, though whether from the cool of the office or that unavoidable tingle of someone walking on his now delayed grave, neither of them could tell.   
  
Instead, with Jack’s help to slide him down onto the floor, and the coat he had gone to five different stores to find spread out beneath them, Ianto Jones simply celebrated the fact that he was still alive. Whatever happened next would happen, and they would face it.  
  
But right now they were going to make the most of their moment of grace. Because if they didn't have moments like this, of hope in the darkness, just what were they fighting for?

 

*************************************

 

They sat in silence at the table, the last three remaining members of Torchwood, and watched as Frobisher strode down the corridor, Bridget beside him. If Jack thought he looked like he had had a rough night the official looked worse.   
  
And their fate was in his hands.  
  
As they pulled up their seats, Jack and Ianto sat back and let Gwen talk, watching for any sign of weakness, any sign of hope. Leaning forwards, Gwen looked at Frobisher, her best poker face in place and all her policeman’s skills in play. They had agreed quickly that she was the ‘trustworthy’ one. It was time to negotiate.  
  
“The threat still stands.”  
  
“Haven’t we got past that?” Frobisher replied wearily, as though not able to believe what he was hearing.  
  
“My husband is still out there with everything you’ve done recorded on his laptop. One word from me and he will release that information to the public.” Jack could hear the bluff in her voice but it didn’t matter. It was all just bluffing now. To release the information would cause uproar, families would fight back and more lives would be lost. Right now they were just trying to stay in the game.  
  
“What do you think Torchwood is now?” Frobisher replied in disgust. “Do you really think you are still players?”   
  
Jack could feel Ianto tense beside him, fighting back the urge to leap across the table and throttle the man. “And whose fault is that?” the Welshman asked sarcastically. “Maybe if you’d asked for help earlier instead of trying to blow us up to cover your own backs this could have been avoided!” Placing a restraining hand on Ianto, Jack couldn’t help feeling a small spark of joy at his resistance. God he loved that Welsh fire, in both of them. It was a shame it was all for nothing.  
  
“We can still try.” Gwen stated simply, casting a quick glance at the men and shaking her head just a fraction.  
  
“We’re at a tipping point right now, civilisation’s about to fall to hell.” Frobisher was angry, scared and it was showing. And scared men rarely made the right choice. “If you want to start that descent a little earlier, go ahead.”   
  
He was calling their bluff. With a sigh Jack leaned forwards at last, his eyes drawn to the lines of bodies still cluttering the hallways. So many lives lost. How many more? How many could he save? He had saved Ianto but if they pushed too hard they could all be at risk again. It would be all too easy for them to disappear, to simply be two more bodies stacked in the hallways – and one prisoner, alone again. Jack shuddered and leaned forwards.  
  
“He’s right, look what happened.” There was no way they could talk their way out of this one and the threat was empty. They all knew it was over. Time to fold and hope for leniency. “Phone Rhys, tell him we’ve lost.”  
  
Nodding once, but hating both him and herself for their weakness, Gwen pushed up from the table, her chair almost toppling over in her anger as she moved away. Frustration was surging through her body, anger at their uselessness and at the life that was growing inside her, mocking the death that surrounded her. Reclaiming her phone from the guard she made the call.  
  
Jack waited until she had started to speak, reading the anger in her movements and spotting the moment the fire he had so loved in her went out, that she gave in to despair as she had to say the words she didn’t want to admit, even to herself. They’d lost. She needed to fight, needed to have something, anything she could do. Even one life spared, one child, could be enough to help her live with herself.  
  
And Jack knew just the lives.  
  
But first what they needed was... Assets. “What about Lois?” Jack asked quietly, thinking of the quiet young woman they had dragged into this mess.  
  
“I’m afraid Miss Habiba is in police custody charged with espionage.” Jack winced in spite of himself. Damn. Maybe something could be done for her later. One battle at a time.  
  
“Then what about my daughter and her son?” He could feel Ianto’s thigh press against his, just lightly, letting him know he was here as they awaited the reply.  
  
“They’re free to go,” Frobisher said with a small nod, a moment of shared understanding flickering across the table. There had been too much loss already to risk more innocents and the sins of one man should never be held against his family. Jack and Ianto both let out a breath they hadn’t realised they were holding before glancing at each other.  
  
“And us?” Ianto asked quietly. Frobisher glanced at the armed guards around them and shook his head slowly.  
  
“That’s not my decision to make.”  
  
Jack watched out of the corner of his eye as Gwen slid to sit against the wall, her anger and frustration giving way to the inevitable tears as she tried to make sense of their fate. She looked so lost, so hopeless, it was breaking his heart. He could barely stand to look at her. They had to get her out of here before it destroyed her.  
  
“Then let Gwen go.” He caught the look of shock on Frobisher’s face and leaned forwards, imploring the man. “Please. She’s pregnant.” He heard Bridget suck in a breath and look away, but whether because she was ashamed of the actions they had taken to try to kill Gwen and her unborn child, or at him for putting them both in danger in the first place, he couldn’t tell.   
  
“You said yourself the world is going to hell any second” Jack continued, a touch of desperation in his voice. “Before it does, give us a bit of hope. Just take Gwen home, please.” He looked past them all at her slumped form again and shook his head. “We’re going to need all the new lives we can get after this. Maybe they’ll make a better job of this world than we have.”  
  
Frobisher nodded, just once, and Jack leaned back. He could feel the warmth of Ianto’s leg pressed against his still and was grateful for its support. He just hoped that he could eventually persuade them to let Ianto go too.  
  
But for now, the mission was all down to Gwen.  
  
*************************  
  
Jack went the last stretch across the helipad alone with Gwen, Ianto’s leg forcing him to wait behind in the police car. The guards waiting with Ianto had at least waited until Gwen had said her goodbyes to him before moving in with handcuffs. It seemed a touch of overkill to handcuff a man with a broken leg, in a police car – he wasn’t exactly going to make a run for it – but they weren’t taking any chances. Glancing back, Jack caught the wry smile Ianto gave him as he leaned forwards in the seat for them to restrain him. Another time, another place that might have been a much more fun view...  
  
They were silent on the way across the helipad, just keeping each other company as the roar of the helicopter filled the air. Rhys was waiting for Gwen, ready to take her home again. He looked at Jack, his gaze flicking between the pair of them before nodding just once, thanking Jack for giving her back to him. At least some good could come of this. At least Rhys would get to take his wife home.  
  
After she did one more thing for him.  
  
Pulling her close to hug her goodbye, Jack whispered to her quietly. Ianto hadn’t asked him to do this, had no idea he was putting Gwen back in danger, but Jack didn’t care. He knew Ianto would never ask for a personal favour like this but it was the least they could do. Jack’s family was safe; it was only fair his was too.  
  
Stepping back, Jack let Gwen go and watched in silence as she and Rhys hurried to the Helicopter. Feeling the cold metal of handcuffs snapping shut around his own wrists he tried to keep eye contact with Gwen. He had a horrible feeling he would never see her again. Even if they survived this, she had her old life to go back to. She had Rhys to watch over – and be watched over by. That normal life he had been so keen she held on to was waiting for her. Torchwood was all he had.  
  
Well, maybe not quite all.  
  
Turning back to the car, Jack smiled slightly as he was pushed forward, falling into line with his police escort. He could see Ianto sliding across in the back seat to make room for him and gratefully slid into the seat beside him. As the doors slammed shut they leaned back, Ianto’s leg stretched out awkwardly between them.   
  
“So. Jail then?” Ianto asked quietly.  
  
“Yep.” Jack replied with a twisting nod of his head.  
  
“Rhi always said I’d end up in prison if I didn’t change my ways. She’ll be pleased she was proved right.” Wriggling uncomfortably Ianto sighed heavily. “At least they’re not trying to kill us this time. Always a bonus.”  
  
“Speak for yourself with the trying, they kept succeeding with me.”  
  
“And yet _I’m_ the one with the cast who is going to have to shower wearing a bin liner for months.” Ianto glanced down at his leg and wriggled again, sending the flap of once smart suit leg flapping against his encased leg until he managed to shift it out the way to see the cast itself. “A cast which now has an obscene message on it that should make those nice communal prison showers all the more fun.”  
  
“Hey, you asked me to sign it.” Jack couldn’t resist a grin as he leaned forwards, glancing at his own handiwork and admiring his penmanship, as well as the doodled Torchwood logo. “Looks good to me.”  
  
“Signing usually means a _name_ , not a limerick about young ladies from Venus-” Ianto fell silent as the front doors opened and their guards slipped into the car, both him and Jack smiling innocently as the cops looked back at them. As the officers returned their attention to the car, Ianto leaned closer to Jack and whispered quietly, “just out of interest, any progress with that plan yet?”  
  
Jack shook his head just once and leaned back in the seat, shifting to try and get comfortable against the handcuffs behind his back. He smiled softly as Ianto leaned back beside him, closing his eyes as he let his head sink back against the head rest.   
  
“Wake me when we get there, or when you think of one, whichever comes first okay?” Ianto whispered quietly.   
  
Jack frowned and whispered back out of the corner of his mouth, “I came up with the last plan.”  
  
“Oh yes, and that was brilliant, on a par with ‘get her’ and ‘the stay puffed marshmallow man couldn’t possibly hurt us’.”  
  
“You agreed at first.”  
  
“I blame lack of caffeine,” Ianto replied quickly, “I would have agreed to anything, including a foursome with Rhys and his stupid beans, if you had suggested it.”  
  
“I’ll try to remember that next time.” Jack frowned a moment as his mind played over the possibilities. “Rhys and beans. Now there’s a mental image I needed.” Jack shuddered and gave Ianto a challenging look. “But do feel free to suggest any plans of your own if you want, jump in at any-“  
  
“Quiet back there!”   
  
Jack frowned as their guard pointed at them angrily before they both nodded and sat in silence for the rest of the journey. Jack contented himself to lean back in the seat, his eyes finding the clock on the dashboard before they closed, following Ianto’s example as the younger man tried to grab some more sleep beside him.  
  
All joking aside Jack needed that plan, there had to be something they could do. They only had a few hours left until the deadline; He just hoped they would come up with something before then...

 

****************************

 

The cell block was bare, blank and simple, but it was certainly an improvement on the last one he had been in. Jack grimaced as he watched Ianto hobble as best he could down the corridor, the handcuffs preventing him from reaching out to balance himself. The guard tried to help him but Ianto kept shaking him off, determined to try on his own. Jack could see he was assessing his own abilities, trying to prove he could still be of help. Still planning ahead, still trying to make a difference.  
  
Jack, on the other hand, could feel a bleak hopelessness settling over him again. John had given him so little to go on, how were they supposed to stop the 456? Or was this it, was saving Ianto enough? Was Jack always supposed to sit out the end in a prison cell? Was the world John had come from, the future he had seen, actually _after the ten percent had been lost_ and not with them all saved as Jack had assumed? Had John really changed time itself, risked erasing himself from existence, just to save Jack’s lover, his _rival_?  
  
Was John just getting soft in his old age?  
  
Or was there more? Was there hope? Was there still something he was supposed to do?   
  
Jack watched as a cell door was opened by the guards and they removed Ianto’s cuffs, letting him support himself against the doorframe at last. After a glance at Jack, the guard smiled wickedly and beckoned him over to the same cell. Undoing Jack’s cuffs the guard proceeded to cuff him to Ianto, chaining them together like something out of an old prison chain gang movie.  
  
“Captain Jack? Ianto?” A banging from one of the other cells made them both look round and Jack nodded once to the peephole in the opposite cell. “Jack, it’s me, Lois, what’s going on? Jack- ”   
  
Ianto was pushed into the cell first, Jack quickly grabbing him before he slipped on the uneven foot of his cast. Holding tight, they glanced back as the door was slammed shut behind them. Cuffed together, they shuffled onto the small bench and sat back against the wall, looking at their chained wrists.  
  
“Well, I'm not used to wearing these with my clothes on.” Ianto quipped quietly before shifting his leg up onto the bench beside them, slamming his free hand down onto the hard shell. “Guess they figure I’ll slow you down from escaping even if you do use your magic powers to break out of a locked cell. Ianto Jones, human ball and chain. I feel like the dumb blonde who trips and twists her ankle in those old movies.”  
  
“Could be worse,” Jack pointed out, “at least you didn’t end up doing your own Han Solo impression and recreating the frozen in carbonite bit.” Ianto chuckled then frowned slightly.  
  
“Hang on, Han was almost rescued by Leia then actually rescued by Luke. Sort of. Does that make me Luke or Leia? And does that make Gwen my sister?"  
  
Jack considered for a moment. “If you will agree to try the gold bikini on anyway, I’ll go with Luke.” At a grin from Ianto, Jack reluctantly smiled back as he fidgeted on the bench, trying to give Ianto enough room for his leg. He then stood up instead but the cuffs stopped him moving far enough away to really get comfortable anywhere else.   
  
“How about," Ianto suggested quietly, "I’m Luke and I’ll let you play with my lightsaber instead of the gold bikini part?”   
  
Jack laughed softly, sitting down again but trying to give Ianto some distance before he growled and finally decided what to do. Turning to sit side on to the bench, Jack slid back against the wall and pulled Ianto to him. Wrapping his chained wrist across Ianto’s chest and resting it alongside his arm they wriggled so they could sit comfortably on the small bench and still have enough room for Ianto to rest his leg.   
  
“I thought you didn’t like public displays of affection?” Ianto teased quietly.  
  
“We’re in a locked cell, it isn’t exactly public.” Pulling Ianto tighter into his arms Jack stared up at the small window thoughtfully. “What time do you think it is?”  
  
Ianto shifted, pulling their joined wrists lower so he could push back his sleeve and see his watch. “Damn. Broken.” Dropping his arm back down, he leaned back against Jack. “Mid morning I guess. Must be getting close.” His mind raced as he thought through what must be happening outside and hesitated, so many things he wanted to ask going round his head. “They’re really going to do it.”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“If...” Ianto swallowed hard and kept his gaze focused on the window. “If I’d died do you think you would be in a cell right now? Or out there helping them.”  
  
Jack thought about it for a moment, thought through all that had happened since the night before. Nodding, he wrapped his fingers through Ianto’s. “Probably still in the cell. But I’d be a hell of a lot more miserable about it.”  
  
Ianto hesitated, resisting the urge to ask how much more miserable. Instead he wriggled his leg and tried to get more comfortable on the narrow bench. “I don’t suppose you’ve come up with that brilliant idea yet?”  
  
“Nope.”  
  
“Me neither.” Ianto glanced around the small cell and up to the ceiling, checking for cameras. “Wanna pass the time in a traditional prison game of drop the soap?”   
  
Laughing in spite of their situation, Jack accepted the joke as what it was – gallows humour and a way to lighten the mood, to avoid the big conversations that would have to wait until this was all over. Patting his hand gently against Ianto’s chest he shrugged, considering the offer.  
  
“Maybe later.” He hesitated, unsure whether to confess what else he had done. Ianto had a right to know. “I told Gwen to find your sister and take care of the kids.” He felt Ianto stiffen in his arms and held tight. “Hope you don’t mind.”  
  
Ianto shifted slightly, his voice a little strained as he replied but calm. “Mind? Course not. Just picturing Gwen and Rhi in the same room. Should be interesting.”  
  
“I’m sure they’ll get on like a house on fire,” Jack reassured him quietly.  
  
“That’s exactly what I’m worried about,” Ianto whispered under his breath....

 

*************************************

 

Gwen couldn’t quite believe her eyes when she walked into the lounge. There were so many children. Nineteen. Nineteen children.   
  
Oh God.   
  
How was she supposed to hide nineteen children? How could she leave any behind? This was more than she had thought she was getting into; she was supposed to save two children, just hide two children. They wouldn't notice two, would they? She could hear Andy talking, trying to get Rhiannon to one side so they could tell her Ianto had been arrested, to warn her about the kids, but Gwen wasn’t really listening. Instead her gaze was fixed on the children in the room.  
  
Nineteen. How would she get away with _nineteen_? They wouldn’t fit in the car and time was running out. How the hell was she supposed to hide so many?  
  
“Any why should I trust you? You’re as bad as the government, well I’m not letting you take even one child out of this house so you can just turn around and get out.” Gwen turned to face Rhiannon Davies and held out her hand placatingly.  
  
“Please, you have to trust me, I’m a friend of Ianto’s. They sent me to make sure you were alright.”  
  
“Oh right,” Johnny spoke up, his arm going protectively around his wife as he faced Gwen down. “So if you’re a friend of Ianto’s does that mean you know where my car is?”  
  
“No, I-“  
  
“If you really were working with Ianto then how come he’s locked up and you’re not? Is it because of...” Rhiannon looked at Andy and her eyes narrowed slightly. “Is it because he’s, you know...”  
  
“A bender? I didn’t think that was illegal any-” Johnny started to asked before groaning as his wife elbowed him in the stomach.  
  
“No, you great oaf.” Rhiannon looked back at Gwen again. “Is it because of his, you know, record?”   
  
Andy looked blank and shrugged at Gwen, mirroring the confused look she could feel on her own face.  
  
“No, no, it’s got nothing to do with that. They just did a deal to let me go so I could come and look after you, Ianto would have come himself but his leg is broken because he got shot and-“  
  
“He got SHOT in the LEG?” Rhiannon Davies shouted so loudly all the adults could hear the children in the next room suddenly go quiet, listening in. Lowering her voice, she shook her head crossly and folded her arms. “No, I don’t buy it, Ianto said it was a trick and not to let the children out of my sight or give them to _anybody_. So you’d better just go.”  
  
“I do know Ianto, I promise, he... he used to go out with a girl called Lisa, did you ever meet her?” The blank look she got told her that was a dead end. “And his coffee, he is always fussing about his coffee and his suits, I’ve never known a cleaner man in my life. I wish my Rhys would be more like him sometimes.” Rhiannon smiled reluctantly. “Please, I swear, on my life, you have got to get those kids out of this house, is there anywhere you can take them, do you know anywhere safe-“  
  
All four adults looked round as Rhys barged into the house, his hand on the doorframe as his eyes found Gwen’s, the concern evident in his gaze.  
  
“They’re here.”  
  
********************************  
  
Gwen watched in horror as the army trucks began to pull up. They were really going to do this. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest as she watched them shift into action, riot gear at the ready. “Oh God.” She turned back to the Davieses, to the woman who had that same look of determination on her face that Gwen had seen on Ianto’s a thousand times. “Look, I haven’t got time to explain, okay, but they’re coming for your kids, I swear-”  
  
“Don’t be stupid,” Johnny interrupted.  
  
“Shut up Johnny.”  
  
“They’re going to come into your house and they’re gonna take your kids,” Gwen could feel herself starting to rush as she spoke and forced herself to try to keep it together, but oh God it was hard. “And I’m sorry, but you’ve got to believe me, that’s why Ianto was arrested, okay, that’s how he got shot, he was trying to stop them.” She could see their eyes going to the army trucks, the soldiers so out of place in the small group of houses. “They’re gonna come and they’re gonna take your kids. You’ll never see them again. Never.”  
  
She could see it in Rhiannon’s eyes, the same horror she felt, the same disgust deep in her stomach, that sense of disbelief. They couldn’t be doing this. It couldn’t be real, they wouldn’t do this...  
  
Or would they? Every scandal, every lie, every cheating politician, every soldier dying for a lie, every moment of suspicion towards those in charge seemed to be playing through Rhiannon’s mind as she fought to make sense of what she was seeing and what she believed. Could they really be that cruel, would they really sacrifice their own citizens, their own children? Was this really happening?  
  
 _Yes._  
  
Gwen saw it, that moment when Rhiannon Davies made up her mind. She recognised it because the look on her face was so achingly familiar to her.  
  
She looked just like her brother.  
  
Gwen just hoped there would be a chance to see how much of that trait Rhiannon's children would inherit too.

 

****************************

 

“Cell,” Ianto said with a sigh.  
  
“Nope.”  
  
“Ceiling.”  
  
“Nope,” Jack replied smugly.  
  
“If it’s my cast I’m going to hit you.”  
  
Jack hesitated and lifted his hand off of Ianto’s chest slightly. “How about we take a break from I spy for a bit?” Ianto nodded his head and settled down, shifting, before suddenly crying out in pain. “Ianto? What’s wrong?”  
  
Ianto quickly shook his head and used his free hand to rub his leg, the hand chained to Jack still trapped across his chest. “Leg cramp.” Biting his lip hard, Ianto swung his leg off the bench and fought to try and release his thigh from the spasms running through it.   
  
Jack hastily slid off the bench, practically standing on it to work his way free of Ianto. Dropping to his knees in front of him, the handcuffs between them went slack enough that Ianto could wrap both hands around his leg, rubbing the strained muscle hurriedly.   
  
Jack quickly joined him, their hands moving in unison over Ianto’s thigh. “I never asked. How are you holding up?” He looked up at Ianto’s face and saw the pain written in its lines and the way his breath was shaky.  
  
“I’ve been better.” Wincing Ianto glanced at Jack and forced a small smile onto his face. “Does it usually hurt this much?”  
  
“Getting shot?” Jack asked, watching as Ianto nodded. “Yeah, I guess so. It’s not too bad really. I’ve had worse.”  
  
“I’ll bet. Maybe I should have apologised to Owen after all.” Ianto’s breath began to even out as the pain faded, the muscles relaxing again. “Never had cramp near a bullet wound before. Interesting experience.” Sitting back against the wall Ianto closed his eyes, his face pale and slightly grey in the cell’s light.  
  
“You should be in hospital.”  
  
Ianto laughed and shook his head quickly. “No way. I’m not letting you out of my sight again.” Wincing he opened his eyes and smiled weakly. “Besides, they’re keeping an eye on me really. Don’t want me dying on their watch, it’s bad for business.”  
  
“All the same, you shouldn’t be-”  
  
“Shh.” Ianto looked round quickly, concentrating as he heard something, though whether through the door or a reverberation through the cell wall he couldn’t have said. Then he heard it again. Running feet. Banging doors...   
  
Jack leaned forwards, listening too, his hands resting lightly on Ianto’s thigh as they concentrated. With a crash, their cell door opened and a black clothed agent burst through the door, gun raised-  
  
And froze at the sight of the two men, the slightly breathless and sweating young Welshman and the immortal kneeling between his legs. For a heartbeat they all simply stared at each other before Jack lifted his hand from Ianto’s thigh and gave a small wave.  
  
“Hi. Can we help you?”   
  
The agent lifted his hand to his mouth as he took in the handcuffs joining the two men. “We may have a problem...”  
  
************************************  
  
Agent Johnson rolled her eyes as she listened to the commando report in and nodded to herself quickly. “Then just bring them both! I don’t care if he has a broken leg, carry him if you have to, just get Captain Harkness here. Now move it!”   
  
Alice looked up at the tone of her voice and stood quickly, her gaze finding Steven for a moment before slipping back to the other woman. “What’s wrong? Is he okay?”  
  
Nodding quickly, Agent Johnson looked up at the cheer as Steven successfully tackled one of her men and let a small smile slip onto her lips. “Yes he’s fine; we’re just going to have to bring his boyfriend along too. Some idiot handcuffed them together.”   
  
Alice began to nod before frowning suddenly. “Wait, when you say boyfriend you don’t _really_ mean...”  
  
************************************  
  
“Hey, leave him alone!” Jack shouted in alarm as Ianto was hoisted up over the shoulder of one of the commandos, Jack being forced to run behind them because of the cuffs joining them together. “What’s going on? Where are you taking us?”  
  
Ianto’s face was worryingly grey with all the jostling and Jack quickly grabbed his hand, partly to reassure him and partly to make sure he stayed close enough for them not to be hurt by the handcuffs. As they were taken away, Jack felt Ianto squeeze his hand tight, just once, and look up before letting his head sag onto the commander’s back. His face had been deathly pale and Jack couldn’t help worrying that he was in more pain than he was letting on.  
  
Jack had never had to deal with the aftermath of his own injuries for that long. Well, the same injury at any rate. His focus was all on Ianto until they emerged into the sunlight and he could hear the sound of helicopter blades cutting the air above them. At the noise, Ianto looked up again and smiled slightly too weakly for Jack’s liking.   
  
“Another helicopter?” Ianto said sarcastically. “Oh good, I missed out last time. I could do with more Airmiles.”   
  
"I just hope I get the vegetarian meal I ordered." Smiling grimly back, Jack looked up at the helicopter and wondered where on Earth they were headed this time, and under whose orders.  
  
He just hoped this time the orders would work out in their favour...  
  
********************************  
  
Jack was relieved, when they finally got there, that someone had called ahead and got some proper equipment. Within minutes he and Ianto were free from the handcuffs – and an old evacuation wheelchair had been found for Ianto. Grumbling slightly, Ianto permitted them to help him into the chair, but Jack caught the moment of relief on his face when his bad leg was properly supported at last.   
  
They were quickly marched along the corridors and Jack felt a smile break out over his face as a very welcome sight greeted him. As the small boy ran to him Jack felt a moments relief that they were okay – and a moments anger that they were still here. They should have been home.  
  
“Uncle Jack!” Jack hugged his grandson tight and grinned happily.  
  
“Hey soldier!” As the woman in charge, Johnson, strode passed him, Jack sighed as she yelled back at him.  
  
“We haven’t got time.”  
  
Putting Steven down, Jack patted his back and pushed him gently back towards Alice. “Listen, stay with your mum ok?” Jack nodded to his daughter quickly, then carried on through, not noticing the way she looked at Ianto as they went past.  
  
When they emerged into the vast space of the room, Jack took over pushing the wheelchair, leaning down to speak quietly to Ianto as they followed Johnson. “You okay?”  
  
“Can’t complain,” Ianto replied smoothly. “So, when do I get introduced to the family? Shall I be your colleague this time? Or did you want to jump straight into the awkward silences now?”  
  
“As long as we avoid the lines ‘I’m the one doing your dad’ we should be good,” Jack retorted sarcastically before spinning Ianto to face Johnson – and finding Alice right behind them. “Hi.”  
  
“Hi.” Staring at her father for a long moment, Alice simply froze before a smile forced its way onto her face.   
  
Coughing quietly, Ianto held out his hand politely. “Ianto Jones. You must be Jack’s daughter.”   
  
Recovering quickly, Alice took his hand in hers and shook it politely before something of a wicked grin that reminded Ianto of Jack quirked over her face. “That’s right, I’m Alice. And you must be the one doing my father.”   
  
All three simply stared for a long moment, unsure what to do, before Ianto carefully let go of her hand and smiled awkwardly. “Well, I guess that covers the introductions- ”  
  
They looked round, grateful for the distraction, as the slightly dishevelled and brown coated technician was brought into the room and commandos hastily began setting equipment up around one end of the room. Johnson nodded to them and her eyes found Jack’s as she indicated it all.  
  
“This should be everything you need and if not we’ll find it.”   
  
Jack frowned as he took in the array of technology and shook his head slightly. “For what?”   
  
“Wavelengths,” Johnson replied smartly, her tone holding a confidence Jack actually envied right now. “The 456 are named after a wavelength, and that’s got to be the key to fighting back”  
  
“You’re wasting your time,” the technician from Thames House, the one Jack had heard someone refer to as Dekker, snarled back at her. “There’s nothing you can do, I’ve analysed those transmissions for over 40 years and never broken them-“  
  
Jack reflexively stepped forward as Johnson pulled out her gun, putting himself in front of Ianto and Alice before realising it wasn’t for them. With a bang that seemed to echo through the vast space Johnson calmly shot the man in the leg, watching him fall to the floor before turning back to Jack, unconcerned.   
  
Another time, another place, another life and Jack realised he would either have tried to recruit her or fuck her after that. She had that steel in her eyes that he had seen so rarely outside of a mirror. Three thousand years later and she would have been in the Time Agency. Here, now, she was doing what she could to make her mark. She was a killer like him. He couldn’t trust her an inch.  
  
But that didn’t mean he didn’t like her.  
  
Johnson stared him down, as though challenging him. “What do you think, Captain?” Her eyes flicked to Alice and she nodded just slightly in his daughter’s direction. “She told me you were good. Was she right?”  
  
Jack couldn’t help the feeling of joy and pride spreading through him at her words. Alice had said that? Turning to his daughter he shot her a smile, grateful for her faith, before grabbing the wheelchair and pushing it forwards towards Johnson.  
  
“Let’s get to work.”  
  
Ianto shifted in the chair, letting Jack help him out of it again once they were next to the machines. One of the commandos brought over a solid packing box and set it up beside the tables so he could lean on it whilst he worked and Ianto nodded gratefully.   
  
In unison the two men set to work, their fingers flying over the keyboards and accessing systems. “Give me access to the TW software,” Jack called over his shoulder, Ianto nodding as he typed in the familiar access routes he had memorised years ago, just in case of emergency. “Log on to servers. And... Welcome back.” Jack looked back over his shoulder, sharing a grin with Ianto as the familiar blue swirls lit the screen.  
  
“It still won’t work,” Dekker snarled at them, “there’s nothing on there. It’s useless.”  
  
Jack shook his head dismissively at the remark and carried on working. “We’ve got technology way beyond you.”  
  
“We hacked into Torchwood years ago you idiot,” Dekker retorted, “there’s nothing.”  
  
“Archive 969 ring any bells Mr Dekker?” Turning from his post, Ianto shot a politely dismissive smile at the look of surprise on the technicians face. “Toshiko found your little probe years ago. She’s been feeding you garbage ever since.” He turned to grin at Jack. “Including the alien cookery book we found, the Adipose nursery rhymes and that dreadful forty first century romance novel.”  
  
“I’m glad to see someone found a use for it,” Jack said, with a broad grin before getting back to work.  
  
Johnson shook her head slightly and pointed to Dekker. She was starting to regret them having brought him too. “Bring him over here.” She could at least keep him under control – and if necessary gag him later. Or maybe shoot him again...  
  
“Dad...”   
  
Ianto could feel himself jump slightly at Alice’s call, his brain having trouble with the idea of Jack having children. He could spend his whole life with Jack and never come close to finding out all there was to him. As he thought of the 456, of what Jack had done, Ianto took a deep breath and shook the thought off. Maybe some parts of Jack’s past should remain hidden.  
  
At least until Jack was ready to talk about them.  
  
“Come and look at this,” Alice pointed to the small monitor as her father drew closer. “It’s some sort of pirate station, they’re trying to get the story out to the public. But they’re taking the kids.”  
  
Ianto turned and watched the small screen with them, watching the soldiers set to work. They had to stop this, there had to be a way.  
  
But even if they did, even if they got the children back, after seeing that, after knowing what _their own government_ was prepared to do to them, what sort of world would they be coming back to?

 

**********************************

 

Alice watched as her father and Ianto Jones worked. The way they moved together was smooth, as though they had been doing it for years. Which, judging by how young the other man was, didn’t seem that likely. He was what, thirty at most? The longest Jack and he could have been together was maybe ten years.   
  
She had always known that he had other women; even whilst her mother was alive there had been other women, the smell of perfume on his clothes or a hair on that coat of his. But other men? How long had that been going on? Since before she was born? How long had this current one lasted so far, a few months, a few years? Had he been with this man longer than he had been with her mother?  
  
He could have been with him through Steven’s entire life and never once told her.  
  
Secrets and lies. Alice had been brought up on them. Her mother had been Torchwood too, their very names a disguise. They had taught her son how to run and how to hide from the moment he could walk. She had been born into this life and at times she had hated her father for it. It had never been her choice; she just wanted to be safe and happy with her son.   
  
People like her father shouldn’t have children.   
  
Touching her hair lightly, she knew without looking the grey that was starting to creep through into it, the lines on her face. Ianto looked closer to Steven’s age than hers; his face still had that faintly unfinished look to it, not rounded like a teenagers but not quite as solid as an adult. He looked so young to her and yet he seemed to fit with her father. As though they were a perfect match.  
  
It was strange, she found herself less confused by the fact that her dad was with another man than by the way his latest lover looked at him. He was Torchwood, they were both Torchwood, he had to know what her father was capable of, what he could be. Then how could it be true? But it was there in front of her, she could see it so clearly. She could see in his eyes; this Ianto truly loved her father.   
  
And that was something that, in her heart, she knew even her mother had not really managed. Her parents had been kindred spirits, they had shared the same passion and fight but it had burned out before she was Steven’s age. She was all that remained, and she had been what kept them together even that long.   
  
As Ianto moved at the monitors, his suit leg caught on the case and revealed his cast. Alice found her gaze drawn to it, wondering what had happened to him as she saw his leg – and familiar handwriting. Tilting her head to read it, Alice felt her mouth open wide as she worked out what it said. A startled laugh escaped her before she realised it, her hand rising to her mouth.   
  
Ianto Jones turned and, following her gaze, looked embarrassed as he hastily readjusted his trouser leg. Smiling awkwardly he turned back to his work and, checking her father wasn’t paying attention, Alice moved over to stand behind the young man. After a moment of standing in silence, she nodded her head slightly hesitantly before speaking.  
  
“Hello again.”   
  
Ianto glanced round, his typing slowing as he tried to think of what to say, not really wanting to be there any more than she did. “Hello.”  
  
Alice smiled and shifted to stand beside him, watching the screen and the blue swirls, unsure what she wanted to say but needing to say something. “So, how long have you worked at Torchwood?”  
  
“About twenty four hours longer than I should have.” Ianto smiled oddly and carried on working as he spoke, before glancing back at her. “Sorry, one of those jokes I guess you had to be there for.” Shrugging, he sneaked a quick glance at Jack before answering. “A few years. I used to work in London but transferred to Cardiff more recently.”   
  
Alice nodded in understanding and folded her arms across her chest, as though warding off a chill. “I’m sorry.”  
  
Ianto nodded and glanced up as Steven ran back into the room. The boy waved to his mother before running down to the other end, a grinning commando chasing after him with the football. “He’s a good kid.”  
  
“He’s one of the lucky ones I guess.” Alice watched her son play and shook her head slightly. “I can’t believe they’re really going to do this.”   
  
“Jack will find a way to stop them.”   
  
Alice smiled at his confidence and glanced over at her father, watching him talk to himself and to Johnson as he worked, playing for the crowd. He couldn’t help flirting, even now, with them both over here. She had hated him for that when she was younger, the way her friends would ask who he was, whether he was seeing anyone - and worse, the way he would flirt with them, teasing them whilst she couldn't react. Dads were supposed to be embarrassing but 'Captain Jack' had always managed to take that to a new level.   
  
But then there were the times when he had not been flirting at all, when she had seen the fire in his eyes and it had frightened her. It had been why she had pushed him away, why she kept him out of her life.   
  
And why she knew if anyone could do this, if anyone could find a way out of this, then _he_ could.  
  
“I hope so," she admitted at last, her eyes watching finally leaving Jack and returning to his friend. "Do you have any children?”  
  
Ianto laughed quietly and shook his head before growing serious again. “Never really had the time. Families and Torchwood don’t really mix.”  
  
“Tell me about it.” Alice agreed with a sad smile.  
  
“I have a niece and nephew. Right little tearaways they are. I remember this one time-” Ianto broke off as Jack raised his voice, his tone catching Ianto’s attention instantly. He recognised that sound. Jack was on to something.   
  
“If we cycle the wavelength back at them...” Jack began.  
  
“I know what you’re trying to do,” Dekker interrupted, “a constructive wave. Do you think people aren’t trying that all over the world? But it’s never going to work; the effect would be like shouting at the 456 that’s all.”  
  
Jack shook his head just slightly and frowned as he thought it through. “Why did Clem die?”  
  
“It was the 456,” Johnson answered quickly. “They killed him.”  
  
“Yeah but how did they do it?” Jack said quietly, unaware that everyone was watching him closely, willing him to be on to something, to have worked it out, to have found... anything. “Why did they do it?”  
  
“We’ve got the recording here,” Johnson said, hurrying past Ianto to grab the laptop she had taken from Gwen, whilst Jack continued to work it through.  
  
"Clem knew things," Ianto said quickly, drawing Jack’s gaze as he spoke. “He claimed to be able to smell them, to sense them nearby, and picked up on other things that he couldn't have really. Maybe it wasn’t smell at all but some kind of telepathic link, like they’re using with the children now?”  
  
“His mind must have synched with the 456 back when he was a child...” Jack agreed, shifting to stare into space again, his mind racing. “But they didn’t need to kill him, he wasn’t a threat. Unless... Maybe that connection _hurt_ them.”  
  
Johnson hurried back, the record ready. “This is the 456 at the moment of Clem’s death. We’ve lifted the sound from the Thames House link.”  
  
Alice winced at the shrieking of the aliens and stepped back, Ianto’s hand automatically rising to reassure her, even as he frowned at the noise himself.  
  
“That sound Mr Dekker,” Jack asked confidently. “What’s that sound?”  
  
Dekker shook his head, confusion evident on his face along with the smallest trace of interest at last, his curiosity getting the better of him. “I don’t know. It’s new.”  
  
“Exactly,” Jack replied with a grin and a meaningful stare. “It’s new.”  
  
Ianto turned to Alice and smiled hopefully up at her. “Told you he’d find a way.” Turning back to his work, he quickly accessed the programs necessary to analyse the new wavelengths, sending the data to Jack before he even asked for it. They were going to find a way.  
  
Glancing at the clock he took a deep breath and redoubled his efforts. He just hoped it wouldn’t be too little too late...

 

*******************************

 

Ianto watched as Jack became more frustrated, time ticking away with the steady reports of Johnson’s men feeding through the data on the rounding up of the children. They already had over eighty percent of them. As Jack and the others worked to try and analyse the wavelengths Johnson kept up a steady commentary of what was happening outside, of how much time they probably had until all the children were collected.   
  
Ianto was oddly grateful that the 456 were holding out for every last child. If they had taken less it would be over already and they would have lost. But the army had started going into peoples homes, dragging their children away. Riots were breaking out, everything was falling apart. Civilisation was going straight to hell, they couldn’t get hold of Gwen, they had no idea if she was safe, if his own family were safe, they were running out of time...  
  
And they had nothing.  
  
Ianto watched as Jack leaned heavily against the table and had to resist the urge to go over to him. He wanted nothing more than to place a hand on his back, bring him a coffee and maybe make an inappropriate joke just to make him smile, to break the tension if only for a moment. That was what he did best. He kept Jack from drowning in his own thoughts.  
  
Ianto had never fooled himself that he could keep Jack, that they would really grow old together; but he could make the time they had mean something. He wanted nothing more than for Jack to one day, centuries after this time had passed out of living memory, to suddenly smile as he walked down the street on Earth or some alien planet. He wanted to make Jack laugh completely randomly as he remembered a bad joke he had told him, or the image of Ianto wearing nothing but that stupid red beret Martha had sent them, or a stolen moment of pleasure they had shared.  
  
He just wanted to be remembered.  
  
They were so close but they were running out of time and they all knew it. Johnson and Dekker were right beside Jack; Johnson because she wanted to be in control and Dekker just because he had to be. But Ianto was in the background, working away silently, hidden or forgotten by the others. But he was there, for Jack. As he always was.   
  
Suddenly Jack pulled back and looked at the equipment again, as though realising something for the first time.  
  
“We don’t have to analyse the wavelength,” he said slowly, “just copy it, turn it into a constructive wave." Jack paused, following the thought through before almost dismissing it. "But we’ve got no way of transmitting it...”  
  
“Course you have.” Everyone looked round in surprise as Dekker spoke, a smug look on his face and such a note of almost pleasure in his voice that it made the hairs on the back of Ianto’s neck stand on end.   
  
“Shut up.” Jack’s tone was stern as he stared ahead, not even looking at Dekker. Something was going on, they knew something. Ianto moved forward, hobbling across the space to join Jack. He needed to see his face. He needed to know...  
  
“Same way as them.” Dekker stated cheerfully, seemingly enjoying the Captain’s discomfort and reveling it.   
  
“I’ll find something else,” Jack snarled back, causing Ianto to hurry around the desk as fast as he could, nearly stumbling on his cast as he rounded the corner. Alice was already there, staring so hard at her father that Ianto could feel his unease increasing as he moved to join her.   
  
“What does he mean?” Johnson said as she looked at Jack, her gaze questioning him even as he stood rigidly. Ianto leaned on the desk before him, trying to get Jack to look at him.  
  
“Don’t listen to him,” Jack was speaking to Johnson but suddenly his gaze locked on Ianto’s and the younger man could see nothing but horror there. Jack was terrified. Jack was _never_ that scared, not even when he had been about to die, when he was about to be blown up. What could possibly be so bad?  
  
“Dekker,” Johnson commanded sternly, turning to the technician. “Tell me.”  
  
Mr Dekker leaned against the table and closed his eyes for a moment before speaking, though whether out of regret or to savour the moment they couldn't tell. “The 456 use children. To establish the resonance.”  
  
“Meaning what?” Alice asked quietly.   
  
Ianto could see Jack’s silence was scaring her too and he wanted to go to her – but it wasn’t his place to, he wasn’t the one who should be standing beside her. Jack should. He could only watch in horror as he saw the look on Jack’s face and heard Dekker’s next words, the words that seemed to drain all the warmth from his soul.  
  
“We need a child.”  
  
Ianto felt sick, he couldn’t look at Alice and found his gaze locked on Jack’s, unable to tear himself away. No. Not again. Not this time. Not this child...  
  
“What do you mean?” Alice didn’t understand, couldn’t understand. And Ianto wished he didn’t, wished he could erase the knowledge from his mind. Jack looked sick, as sick as they all felt, but worse than that was the way he was saying nothing. The way he wouldn’t look at his daughter. The way he wasn't fighting back. He was actually _considering_ it...  
  
“Centre of the resonance.” Dekker sucked in a breath then half laughed before spelling it out for her. “That child’s gonna fry.”  
  
“Jack...” Ianto whispered softly at last, his eyes burning despite the tears he could feel forming there. No, not Jack’s family, not again.  
  
“No, dad.” Alice was soft, so soft, just pleading with him quietly but Jack didn’t even turn to face her, _couldn’t_ face her. “No. Tell them no.”  
  
“We’ll find another way,” Ianto said simply, reaching out to place a hand over Jack’s... But Jack looked down, avoiding his gaze, suddenly unable to look at him either. “There has to be another way.”  
  
“One child or millions...” Johnson stated simply, everyone focused on Jack, expecting him to decide, forcing him to make the choice.  
  
Ianto suddenly wanted nothing more than to make them all go away, to drag Jack out of here, to just take him away and make it all go away, make it stop. No more. Hadn’t he done enough already?  
  
“Dad.” Alice was becoming more frantic as Jack didn’t answer, desperately seeking the sign that she so badly needed, that every child needed from their parent at some point in their life. She needed to know that her happiness was all he wanted. That he loved her more than the world itself. That whatever he did, whatever he had not done in her life, he could never do _that_ to her. “No, dad, tell them no!”  
  
Ianto shook his head firmly, staring at Jack, begging him not to say it. “There has to be another way, what if-“   
  
“We’re running out of time!” Johnson said over him, cutting him off.  
  
“Dad, no! No dad!”  
  
“Captain!”  
  
And in that instant, Ianto Jones, a simple human being but one who should not have been there, who had had reality change around him because of one moment, could feel the weight of that second. He could see, for just a heartbeat, all that could be, all that would be, what the consequences of their actions would be and he suddenly understood what had happened before. He knew why John had come back.  
  
He knew what he had to do. He knew why John had saved him.   
  
Because he was the only one who _could_ fix this.  
  
Because Jack, the man who could not die, who had to watch everyone he loved die around him, who never let anyone truly know him, who expected everyone to leave him someday so would never let them in...  
  
... _would_ not.

 

***************************

 

Jack raised his head just slightly, and, as much as he hated himself for it, he knew what he was going to do. Steven. His Steven. This was his penance for 1965, one child for twelve.   
  
If he lived to the end of the universe, would he ever manage to make right everything he had got wrong? Or was he doomed to always repeat the same mistakes over and over and over, to always lose everyone he loved, to always have to make the hard choice.  
  
Alice. She would never forgive him for this. Just as her mother had never been able to, for so many things. Would anyone ever just forgive him for what he had done?  
  
Would he ever deserve it?  
  
“Captain!”  
  
Jack closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. He couldn’t bring himself to say the words, he just couldn’t. Lifting his head a fraction higher he prepared to bring it down. To give in.  
  
To nod.  
  
Suddenly there was a scuffing sound in front of him and Jack opened his eyes, watching in horror as Ianto fell backwards, his cast catching on the rough surface of the warehouse floor. The commando standing nearby him reacted instinctively, his hands reaching out to catch the falling man as Ianto twisted, almost as though he was aiming for the-  
  
-Ianto Jones twisted his hand and, in one smooth motion, took the commando’s weapon, lifting the gun to point to its owner’s head. Suddenly upright again he was staring straight at Johnson as he pressed the gun hard against the commando’s temple.  
  
“No,” Ianto snarled at her angrily. “You don’t get to call him that. You don’t get to _ask_ him that.”   
  
“Ianto!” Jack shouted as he froze, his hands rising automatically, even as he saw Alice shift beside him. Her body language gave away her intention as he glanced at her. “Alice, don’t.”   
  
Ianto’s gaze flickered to her and, to Jack’s surprise, he nodded, just once. Quick as a flash, Alice turned and ran, her legs pumping as she hurtled towards the door. She spared no thought to her own safety or to the guns around her, but was focused solely on that of her son.   
  
Jack spotted a couple of the commandos start to go after her, but before he could speak Ianto shook his head, pressing the gun against the commando’s head hard enough to make him cry out. “LEAVE HER ALONE!”   
  
“You can’t be serious,” Johnson said, folding her arms across her chest. “I have a dozen other men in this room who could shoot you dead before you take another breath.”  
  
“I know.” Jack watched as Ianto answered. The younger man was grinning slightly manically as he nodded, a sharp twitch of his head. “But I’m living on borrowed time anyway, so where’s the harm in it?”   
  
Jack could see the pressure Ianto was putting on the trigger and stepped forwards, coming clear of the table at last as he held out his hands. “Ianto, please...”  
  
“Captain, we don’t have-“   
  
“I said don’t call him that!” Ianto stared hard at Johnson as he cut her off, fury on his face. “You have no right to use that name, not after what you did to us. You have no right to ask this of him, after all you’ve done-“  
  
“Whatever you call him, he’s got no choice. It’s simple maths.” Dekker leaned forward on the table, a faint leer of amusement on his face. “We’re gonna need that kiddy soon, and either you’re gonna give him up or they’re gonna shoot you but either way-”  
  
Ianto Jones pushed the commando away quickly and turned, his aim sure and true as he fired. Shouting in pain, Dekker grabbed his hand up from the table and wedged it under his arm, the blood staining his shirt as he looked at Ianto, aghast.  
  
“We will find another way!” Ianto shouted back, pointing the gun at Johnson now and freezing her in place. There was as air of desperation in his voice as he turned to Jack but his aim remained focused on the woman who had tried to kill them all, without hesitation, and yet was now asking the unthinkable of them. “Come on Jack, we’ve got more time, use it. You can do this. I believe in you. Just think of another way!”  
  
Captain Jack Harkness, the man who had died so many times he had lost count, stepped forwards and held his hands out for the gun. With a small shake of his head he whispered the words he didn’t want to say, the words he knew would hurt everyone he loved. He was supposed to be a hero but instead he knew he really was the monster Ianto had spotted all that time ago. Ianto may have felt that he had barely scratched the surface but instead he had seen through Jack right from the start, he knew what he was.   
  
He was nothing.   
  
“Ianto, I’m sorry.” Jack whispered softly, his heart breaking. “There isn’t one.”  
  
Ianto shook his head furiously and looked at Johnson quickly before shifting back to Jack. “Don’t say that.”  
  
“I...” Jack could feel his voice catch as he looked at the angry fire in those blue eyes, wanting nothing more than to say it was going to be okay, they he had a plan, that he had anything he could do. “There isn’t.”  
  
“Don’t say that!” Ianto was almost screaming now and stepped forwards, hobbling on his cast and looking completely crazed. “Jack, you can’t. He’s your grandson!”  
  
“Don’t you think I know that?!” Jack shouted back, half angry and half pleading with his lover, all others in the room forgotten. “It’s my grandson or millions of children, including _your_ family Ianto. What do I do? Tell me, what do I do? Please tell me...” Jack could feel himself losing control, tears threatening to fall and already starting to blur his vision as he blinked quickly to clear them. “Tell me what to do. Please...”  
  
Captain Jack Harkness watched in shame as the man who loved him, who would do anything for him, who he had changed history for, let the gun slip a fraction lower. He could see the fight leaving Ianto as he stared, horror struck at Jack.  
  
“This is it, isn’t it?” Ianto whispered back hoarsely. “This is what you hide from me.”  
  
Spotting Ianto beginning to crack, Johnson discreetly lifted her radio to her lips, whispering quietly into the device. Just three words. “Get the boy.”  
  
“This is what you are beneath the surface,” Ianto said quietly, his face crumpling as he looked at the man he would have followed into hell and back. “This is what you do. You kill those we love so that we don’t have to. You spare us from having to carry that guilt.”  
  
Dekker snarled angrily as he watched the monitors and almost spat at Ianto as he spoke. “Save the lovers tiff for later. Times running out gents, we’re gonna need that boy soon or we lose them all.”  
  
“I’m sorry,” Jack’s voice was so low, the words almost lost as he spoke, his voice cracking with the strain.  
  
“Jasmine,” Ianto whispered back, understanding on his face at last. “Mary. L... Lisa. You killed them... You killed them to save us from having to do it. You make the hard choices, so we don’t have to.”  
  
Jack shuddered as a scream echoed from the corridor, the sound of his daughter’s desperate cry sending a shiver through his soul. Oh God what had he done?  
  
Ianto Jones looked at the door and shook his head slightly at the scream, the disgust on his face still nowhere near the level of hatred Jack had for himself. Forcing himself to look into Ianto’s eyes Jack prepared himself for the hatred, the loathing he felt for himself to be reflected there. But instead....  
  
“I understand now,” Ianto whispered quietly, tears starting to shine on his cheeks as he finally gave in to the despair he was feeling. “I really do. It’s easy to die for love or for a cause but to live for it, to live with what you’ve done, that’s the hard bit. That’s what you do. That’s what you spare us. You love us so much you protect us from it. And you bear it alone. Forever.”  
  
“Then you know why I have to do this.” Jack held out his hand, pleading with Ianto as he shook his head slowly. There was no time left.   
  
“I understand. I understand now. I know why John brought me back. Not to save me. Not even to save Steven.” Ianto Jones blinked back his tears, hastily wiping his face, before he quickly swung the gun round to aim at Jack. “To save you. And her.”  
  
“They’re almost ready, we’ve got no time!” Johnson shouted, her eyes fixed on the monitor.  
  
“Ianto, I can stop this, I have to do this! Please, just let me get this over with!” Jack’s begging shout brought Ianto’s attention back to him and Jack nodded slowly, encouragingly, as the Welshman considered the options, considered all that he could do to change this.   
  
They both turned and watched in horror as Alice was dragged into the room, her arms wrapped around her son, and her eyes met Ianto’s, pleading with him.  
  
And he decided.  
  
“No.” Pulling the trigger, Ianto Jones fired.

 

**********************************

 

Alice’s scream cut through the air as she watched her father fall to the ground. This couldn’t be happening. Holding on tighter to her son, she fell to the ground too as the commandos hesitated at the shot, their hands leaving her as they reached for their guns. Curling up on the floor Alice held tight to her child, wrapping herself bodily around him, trying to keep him safe.  
  
Ianto Jones stood up straight as he held the gun above his head, smoothly clicking the safety on, before tossing the weapon away.   
  
“You bloody idiot!” Johnson shouted in frustration, staring at the body of Captain Jack Harkness on the ground. “He was the only one who could stop this!”  
  
“No he isn’t.” Ianto Jones took one last look at his lover before stepping over his outstretched arm and leaning on the desk. “I can.” Shuffling around the table, he pushed her out the way before taking up Jack’s position at the keyboard, his gaze focused on the small platform. “Get the boy onto the platform.”   
  
Turning his head he found Alice Carter staring at him in horror, her arms wrapped so tightly around her son she must be crushing him. Raising his voice and putting as much authority into it as he could, Ianto Jones pointed at the woman, just one of so many secrets Jack had kept from him, and tried not to let the disgust he was feeling for himself show on his face. “And take her outside.”  
  
“NO!” Alice screamed again as the commandos began to force her fingers back, pulling her off her son.  
  
“Don’t hurt them!” Ianto shouted harshly and looked deep into her eyes, some distant part of his mind seeking for any trace of Jack in her. Any sign that she would understand this. “Alice...” Ianto lowered his voice and shook his head slowly. “Don’t make this harder on him. Please. It won’t hurt, I promise.”  
  
“You bastards!” Screaming, the commandos took advantage of her moment of distraction at Ianto’s voice and managed to prise her fingers off of Steven, picking the boy up and carrying him away even as it took four other men to hold her back. “NO! Please, no!”  
  
“MUM!”   
  
Johnson stepped forwards, watching as Alice was dragged out of the room, her son frozen in terror as he stood on the platform, unable to understand what was going on. “I don’t understand,” she said quietly, mindful of the scared child. “What the hell was that about? The boy will still die, Jack will just wake up, you won’t have saved anyone, you haven’t _done_ anything!”  
  
“Steven,” Ianto called out as strongly as he could, drawing the terrified boy’s attention. “I need you to close your eyes and stand very still; can you do that for me?”  
  
“What’s going on? What’s happened to Uncle Jack?” The terror in his eyes was overwhelming but suddenly in that moment Ianto saw it. The thing he had been looking for in Alice, the trace of Jack in her face. No wonder he hadn’t seen it in hers.  
  
It was all in Steven’s.  
  
Forcing a weak smile onto his lips, Ianto took a deep breath, determined that if he could do _just one thing_ he was going to try to spare that child from being afraid. “He’ll be fine in a moment. But right now I need you to just close your eyes. We’re going to talk to the aliens again, okay?”  
  
Ianto felt sick but tried to stay strong as the boy nodded and stood still, closing his eyes, stiff but looking calmer. As a loud gasp sounded beside him Ianto quickly turned to Johnson. “Johnson, aim at Jack, NOW!”  
  
Obeying quickly, Johnson shouted at Jack, the immortal freezing almost absurdly on the floor as he realised what was going on. “Don’t move!”   
  
“Uncle Jack!” Steven shouted, peering down from his position on the platform. “What’s going on?”  
  
“Oh God,” Jack breathed quietly, his eyes locked on his grandson. “Ianto, no, please.”  
  
“You said it yourself Jack,” Ianto whispered softly, careful not to speak loud enough for the boy to hear. “We’ve got no choice.”  
  
“I should do it, it should be me-” Jack began before Ianto cut him off.  
  
“No.” Glancing down at Jack, Ianto shook his head, tears in his eyes. “It has to be me. You... You have to go to him. Stay with him, Jack.” Turning back to the controls Ianto began to type, the soft hum of a bass throb starting to build through the speakers in the room. “Nobody should have to die alone, Jack.”   
  
Ianto turned back to his lover and suddenly remembered the way Jack had helped bring him back after Lisa died. Jack had killed her and yet Jack had saved him too. Would Jack have been able to bring him back if Ianto had had to pull the trigger instead?  
  
Would he be able to bring Jack back from this?  
  
“Please Jack.” Glancing at the windows separating the room from the corridor outside he watched as Alice stared through the glass, banging hard against it as she spotted her father was awake – and under guard. “For Alice. She’s going to lose her son today. Don’t make her lose her father too.”  
  
Johnson stepped forwards, keeping the gun on Jack as he carefully slid to his feet. Glancing at the window, Ianto could see at last from his reaction that Jack understood. It had to be this way. Backing away slowly, Jack made his way over to the platform and crouched down beside his grandson, tears in his eyes as he wrapped his arms around the boy.  
  
“Are you going to talk to the aliens too?” Steven asked curiously. Unable to speak, Jack just nodded and held on tight, savouring every last second they had and wishing from the depths of his soul that he could do this instead, that he could take this instead.  
  
No man should ever outlive his children.  
  
Holding his grandson tight, Jack closed his eyes as he began to scream.

 

************************************************

 

Ianto Jones shut down the machinery and collapsed to the floor, wrapping his arms around his good leg and holding himself tight. It was over. The 456 had been defeated. They had won.  
  
Then why did it feel like the world had ended?  
  
He could see the platform through the gaps in the equipment, could see Jack holding tight to the small body of his grandson.   
  
And to his daughter.  
  
Alice was in his arms, her cries echoing through the vast space that seemed quiet as a morgue after the shattering screams that had reverberated through it just a few moments ago. She was distraught, she had lost her only child and she was never going to be the same again. But she was in her father’s arms and Ianto knew with complete certainty what he had been there to change.   
  
There had never been a chance to save Steven.  
  
But watching Jack through the gap, Ianto saw the way his arms held tight to his family, his fingers white from holding on so strongly. He still had Alice. He would never have to live with the guilt of having killed his own grandson, of having to destroy his daughter. He would not have to live with that pain forever, always having it eat away at him; he would never have to face her hatred. Now Jack could grieve and be angry with the world, with the government, with Ianto, he could scream and rage at the universe but we wouldn’t have to spend eternity hating _himself_ for it.  
  
Instead Ianto would spend the rest of his life bearing it. For Jack. For Lisa. It was just one less sin in an eternity of horror for Jack. But it was the least he could do for him. He had wanted to give Jack one happy memory to take with him. Instead he had spared him one nightmare.  
  
He just hoped it would make a difference.  
  
Ianto looked up as Johnson crouched down beside him, her gaze finding his and her eyes damp with threatened tears. His own felt so dry, as though he may never cry again, as though he didn’t deserve the cleansing power of tears. As she looked through the tables at the family, Johnson shook her head in confusion.  
  
“He was going to do it. Why didn’t you just let him?”   
  
Ianto Jones shook his head and closed his eyes. How could he expect anyone to ever understand what he had done?   
  
“Because that’s what Torchwood is,” he said quietly. “That’s what we do. We fight. We protect humanity. If we’re very lucky, we die for it. And if we have to, we kill for it.” Opening his eyes he stared blankly ahead, not really seeing anything but his own memories. Toshiko, smiling serenely up at Jack as she died at the hands of his brother. Owen, calmly suggesting his own mummification to protect his friends. Lisa... “We fight for the future on behalf of the human race. And sometimes... we win but still lose.”  
  
Agent Johnson considered the young man before her and the immortal collapsed on the floor. Even Alice had been Torchwood really, recruited from birth into a life she had tried so hard to escape from but that had claimed her in the end. The pain on their faces was horrific, the losses they had faced too much to even try to think about.  
  
But they had believed in what they were doing so much that she knew, deep down, that in spite of the pain they would all do it again. And again. And again. Governments could come and go but Torchwood would carry on fighting; knock them down and they would only rebuild, stronger than before. Because it was the right thing to do. Because they believed in what they were doing.  
  
And that was something she hadn’t felt in a very long time.  
  
Taking Ianto’s hand in hers tentatively, Agent Johnson squeezed it gently, drawing his gaze to her in surprise.  
  
“Where do I sign up?”  
  
**************************************  
  
Ianto Jones sat alone on the hard bench, staring at his hands, the enormity of what he had done not quite yet sinking in but painful enough. He had killed someone Jack loved. There had been a time, after Lisa, when he had dreamed of finding someone close to Jack that he could hurt, that he could use to make Jack feel some of the pain he had been going through.  
  
He hadn’t really understood back then that Jack would be going through it too.  
  
He glanced up as the doors opened and Alice Carter began to walk through, her coat undone and her face pale from too many tears. She looked like a mere shadow of the women who had joked with him just a few hours ago, but there was something new there. She carried herself with a stoicism and strength that he had not seen before. She would never forget this, never be able to forgive what had happened here but she would bear it. She would go on.  
  
She was a Harkness.  
  
On spotting Ianto she froze, her face crumpling with disgust before she turned and walked away again, leaving him alone. It was no more than he deserved.  
  
He didn’t look up when the door opened again, his eyes cast down until a shadow fell across his view and a pair of sturdy boots appeared in his eye line. Boots he had bought. Boots he had picked out, along with the trousers and the coat whose hem he could see and every other item of clothing on that body.  
  
He bought Jack’s underwear. If that didn’t make them a couple he didn’t know what would.  
  
Captain Jack Harkness crouched down in front of the man who had tried so hard to save them all and took his hands tightly, feeling the warmth of those fingers pressed between his own. Taking a deep breath, he looked up into the blue eyes he had lost himself in so many times and tried to find the words to say what he was feeling.   
  
He wanted to say that he understood, that he knew what Ianto had done and why. He wanted to say how grateful he was that he still had his daughter, that he still had some chance to make amends for what he had done to her. He wanted to say how sorry he was that Ianto had had to do this, that he would have to carry this burden. He wanted to say he would stay and help him with it.   
  
He wanted to say how much he loved him.  
  
But he couldn’t. Every time he looked into those blue eyes all he could see was Steven and it _hurt_. It hurt too much to be around him. So instead of saying any of those things Jack simply sighed and squeezed Ianto’s hands tight.  
  
“She needs me.”  
  
Ianto nodded in understanding and looked up, his face so tortured that Jack was torn between wanting to hold him and kiss him until the pain went away – and feeling glad that he was suffering, that he was paying for what he had done.  
  
“You should go to her.”   
  
“What will you do?” Jack asked hesitantly, not sure he wanted to hear the answer.  
  
“Rebuild.” Ianto stated simply, his face determined even through the pain. “Gwen may have to start cutting back soon but I already have a new recruit for the team, maybe two if I can manage it. And I’m pretty sure the blast will only have taken out the main chamber of the hub, the morgue and archives may still be intact. I’m sure that little bit of blackmail material will have will be enough to ensure some extra funding.” He smiled tentatively, as though the feel of it on his face was alien to him. “It’s still the twenty first century Jack. And we do need to be ready.”  
  
Laughing just once, Jack squeezed his hand tight, wanting nothing more than to stay there with him. Forever. But right now it hurt too much. He needed time to heal, to grieve. He needed to be alone.  
  
But first he needed to be with Alice, for now at least. After that... who knew. Maybe he would travel for a bit. He had spent so much time on this one little island, he had come to think of it as home but now it was starting to smother him. Maybe he would go explore some new countries, look up some old haunts, some old planets...  
  
...some old friends.   
  
“I... I don’t know if- When I might be back,” Jack said quietly, still holding on tight to Ianto.  
  
“I know.”  
  
Unable to hold back, Jack leaned forwards and kissed Ianto hungrily, desperately, as though trying to remind himself that all was not lost, that there was still life out there, that it wasn’t all just pain. Ianto returned the kiss just as ferociously, his hands tugging at Jack’s coat, fingers wrapping themselves in the wool and trying to pull Jack into him, to keep him here...  
  
Breaking off, Jack pulled back, and realised his hand was holding on tight to Ianto’s, their fingers intertwined. Looking down at their joined hands, Jack took a shaky breath and stepped back.  
  
And let go of his hand.  
  
Turning his back on Ianto, Jack began to walk away before stopping. Taking a deep breath, he did not dare to look back as he whispered quietly. They were the words he secretly longed to hear himself, every day, and he was afraid that if he took one last look he would never be strong enough to walk away. “Ianto... I forgive you.”  
  
He could not see what effect his words had but the reply that came sounded muffled, as though coming through tears. “I’ll wait for you.” Jack could feel his resolve weakening but at the same time his heart felt warmer at the words, at the promise they held. “For as long as it takes. I will wait for you.” Jack began to walk away, his face crumpling as he hurried up, trying to get out of there before he broke down.   
  
“But Jack?” Stopping again, Jack let his head turn, just glancing out of the corner of his eye at the figure of Ianto Jones and seeing the faintest smile on his face. “Don’t take too long. Not all of us have forever.”  
  
Jack placed a hand on the door and nodded, before finally turning and looking over his shoulder at his lover, his red rimmed eyes drinking in every last sight of him. “I’m coming back. I promise.”   
  
Pushing through the door, Captain Jack Harkness walked away. But even as he strode through the corridor he felt stronger inside. Yes he was going away.  
  
But he still had something worth coming home to. He would be coming back.   
  
Someday.

 

***********************************

 

Lois Habiba sat nervously at the small desk, her eyes roaming around the tiny room and feeling so alone. Espionage. It was a serious charge and there was no way she was getting out of this. She had lost everything.  
  
And for what?  
  
Shifting nervously in her simple prison outfit of a grey tracksuit she watched the door, terrified as to what this new interview would bring. She had not seen a lawyer, had never had her phone call. For all intents and purposes she had simply vanished. It had been weeks, maybe months and she was still here. She knew in her heart that she always would be.  
  
The door swung open and a woman walked in, her outfit almost entirely black and her dark hair swept up. Her boots tapped on the floor beneath her dark trousers and she looked cold and severe in the strange black vest she wore over a simple long sleeved top. Lois was sure she saw an empty holster on her thigh before the woman pulled out a chair and sat down opposite her.  
  
“Lois Habiba?”  
  
Lois nodded nervously and held her hands tight together under the table, picking at her nails as she trembled slightly.  
  
“You’ve been charged with espionage,” the woman stated sternly. “That’s a very serious charge. You knowingly recorded Top Secret and confidential meetings and passed that material on to an outside agency.”   
  
“Yes but-“  
  
“I’m talking,” the woman said sharply, cutting her off. “You gave information to Torchwood, you helped them even knowing that you were breaking the law and you were going to end up here.” Pausing, the woman regarded Lois carefully, curiosity on her face, as though searching for something she already knew. “Why did you do it?”  
  
The question surprised Lois and it showed. In all her interviews and interrogations that was the one thing no one had ever asked her. And the one question she knew the answer to. Suddenly her trembling stopped and a small smile crept on to her face instead.  
  
“Because it was the right thing to do.”  
  
“Would you do it again?”  
  
Lois thought of the children, the millions of children who were going to school, playing football, skipping and running and alive because of Torchwood, because of what they had done, what _she_ had done. As she did, her smile grew and she sat up straighter, defiant at last.  
  
“Yes. And you can do what you want to me but you can’t change what happened. And you know the real reason why everyone is so mad at me?” Lois leaned forward, desperate to say her piece before her courage deserted her again. What was she doing?! “Because they know I was right and _they were wrong_.”  
  
The woman smiled back and leaned back in her chair, folding her arms across her chest. “You really are something else Ms Habiba.” Glancing up at the ceiling, the brunette shrugged casually. “Shame you are going to die in prison. Unless of course...”  
  
Lois looked at her curiously, sensing the life line in front of her and willing to grasp it – as long as it wasn’t a trick.  
  
“Three years. You join us for the next three years and we will pull some strings, get the charges dropped. After that time you are free to go back to your old life, back to being the office girl if you want. Just don’t think about applying for security cleared positions any time soon.”  
  
“Three years?” Lois hesitated, wanting to believe it could be as simple as that. Leaning forward, she looked at the woman carefully, trying to work out what the trick was. “But three years doing what? You haven’t even told me who you are!”  
  
Smiling confidently, the woman leaned forwards and said the words she knew would change Lois’ life forever, the same way they had changed hers and given her something to believe in again, a chance to protect the state and do some good. Holding out her hand, she grinned.  
  
“You can call me Johnson. And we are going to be Torchwood.”  
  
***************************************************  
  
Captain John Hart shivered as the rift energy faded, the vortex traces vanishing and dumping him back onto Earth in a back alley, back near to where he had started. Grabbing his pounding head he stood very still for a moment, waiting for the sickness to subside. He could feel the tingle in his bones as the timelines shifted around him, that trace of vortex energy still hanging around his body for a second longer as he adjusted.  
  
It always took a moment to settle, to let the memories shift in his head and reconcile what had happened before with what was now history. As he remembered the new past along with the old, John grinned softly to himself and hurried away into the night.   
  
He had a much nicer hotel room to get back to and, if he was very lucky, there would still be a naked body in his bed, just waiting for him. A certain someone with fire and passion in their soul and a damn fine body to boot. Someone beautiful but brutal, who could handle the wayward thief, ex Time Agent, part time alien/tech adviser (when he ran low on funds) to the newly reformed team Torchwood and full time rogue.   
  
Someone who had a great deal in common with him – including the honour of having buried Captain Jack Harkness alive and living to tell the tale.  
  
Checking his breath as he ran the last part of the way John grinned to himself. It was funny how things worked out. He had gone back trying to save his Jack - and he had mostly succeeded, he remembered that now, he knew how it had turned out much the same but still just that tiny bit better than before – but in doing so he had found something completely unexpected...  
  
And he had better not keep her waiting or there would be hell to pay.  
  
**************************************************  
  
Ianto saw the flash of light from the top of the hill and closed his eyes. Jack was gone. As Gwen and Rhys worked their way back down to him, Ianto adjusted his suit and blinked rapidly, trying to make sure he looked okay. He hadn’t needed to come, Jack hadn’t asked for him and Ianto hadn’t offered. But he still felt like he should be here, even if he wasn’t seen.   
  
They had said their goodbyes already, so many weeks ago, and the thought of seeing him again for so short a time, of having to watch him go again so soon, was almost more painful than the thought of not seeing him at all, of just waiting instead. He would wait, for as long as it took. But when he saw Jack again he knew that would be it, they would never be apart again.  
  
He believed it. Even after all they had done, all that had happened, he still loved him. He still believed in him.  
  
Forcing a smile onto his face, Ianto hurried forwards to help Gwen the last part of the way and received a playful slap to his arm for his troubles. “Enough of that, I’m pregnant not sick.”  
  
“Yes, you’re _pregnant_ , and the sooner you realise that means you can’t do everything you used to the better!” Rhys’ half angry, half joking tirade made Ianto smile as he watched them bicker lovingly, a typical old married couple.   
  
As he slid into the driver’s seat Ianto watched them snuggle up in the back and took a deep breath, feeling a moments grief that that would never be him. That he would never just be able to settle down, to live that normal life.   
  
His phone beeped and he slid it out, grinning at the confirmation message from Johnson. Lois was in. Ianto quickly made a note to ask Martha to be available for some physicals before sliding his phone away again.   
  
They really did need to appoint a new medic soon but UNIT had begrudgingly loaned her again for the meantime. Although he suspected that was less out of generosity and more because they were afraid of the building work finding the alien morgue and not having anyone on site right away for possible infections. Ianto had no idea if you could get any kind of zombie plague or alien flu virus from the by now probably thoroughly defrosted corpses but no sense taking any chances. They were already monitoring the water in the bay in case of any risk of contamination.  
  
As for Lois, Ianto was going to need some serious help once they made it through into the archives. There would be water damage in places from the bay seeping through cracks and the fire hoses, there was smoke damage, fire damage... they had barely managed to get a roof over their heads and resurface the Plass so far...  
  
“Lois said yes.” Ianto said absently, as he thought through all the things they had to do. They were going to be busy for months just rebuilding.   
  
“That’s great!” Gwen said happily, slapping Rhys’ hand away as he tried to adjust her seatbelt over her bump. “Get off, will you. What about the military candidates, when’s the selection process going ahead?”   
  
Ianto looked up and shrugged. “Johnson was able to recommend a few good candidates but I’m not sure any of them are quite right. It’s going to take time to weed out the possible ones.”  
  
“I still think you need to do it Men in Black style.” The Torchwood operatives both turned to look at Rhys incredulously, having already heard this suggestion at least once each. “What, I mean it!” Rhys said indignantly. “Get them all in, get the shooting gallery thing going on and some kind of logic test and if they don’t pass you just give them one of those bloody pills!”  
  
Ianto felt his eyes close as he turned away again. He didn’t even want to go into the fact that they had lost most of their stock of Retcon in the blast. Ianto shook his head slightly in amusement as Gwen told her husband to give it a rest with the Men in Black ideas. It hadn’t been his first movie inspired suggestion and they were rapidly getting more and more ridiculous. This wasn’t a movie, this was real, just as real as the life that Gwen would be living with Rhys – only with more guns and aliens.  
  
Another beep from Ianto’s phone made him smile as he read the message. There was another possible sighting of Myfanwy. Some Welsh farmers were blaming the loss of lifestock on rustlers or wild cats but there had also been sightings of a giant bird in the same area that Ianto just knew had to be her. If he could find her nest then maybe he could persuade her to come back with him again.   
  
Or maybe she would be better off there. He could always arrange for meat deliveries with a local company, find a nice lonely farmhouse nearby and a sympathetic housekeeper to get dinner ready – preferably with just a splash of barbecue sauce and some dark chocolate for desert...  
  
Glancing in the rear view mirror, for a moment Ianto caught the slight look of envy on Gwen’s face as she spotted him working and he smiled back at her reassuringly. It was strange to think that just as he envied her, her normality, she was grieving for the job she had once had, the life she had led, that sense of purpose.   
  
He understood a little better now how Jack had lost Alice’s mother. How could anyone give up this life and go back to normality? And worse, how could anyone watch someone they loved still go out and carry on the fight and not be able to be by their side any more? He remembered how helpless he had felt being left behind at Thames House and imagined trying to spend the rest of his life like that.  
  
No wonder Rhys seemed so much happier lately now that Gwen was being forced to pull back from Torchwood. He had always accepted this part of Gwen’s life, even though it must have been tearing him apart every time she was late home, every late night phone call must have had him fearing the worst. He really was stronger than any of them.  
  
Certainly stronger than Ianto felt.   
  
He still woke up most nights, screaming at the memory of Steven’s face, at the knowledge of what he had done, but he knew it had _had_ to be done. He would bear the stain of it for the rest of his life but he would also do what Jack had always done to deal with it.  
  
He would try to atone for it, one life, one job at a time, until the day he died.  
  
Because he was Torchwood. And they still had an awful lot of work to do.

 

*************************************************

 

Penny Carter sighed heavily as she hung up her coat and looked out at the grey day outside. Every single journalist in London had been trying to find out the whole story behind what had happened with the children but the lies and secrets were overwhelming. Each day the public became angrier and angrier, frustrated with the silence and wanting answers – and getting none.   
  
There were riots so often they barely bothered sending a reporter any more, simply picking up the stories from local journalists instead. The schools were deserted, with many parents choosing to teach their children at home or pay for private schooling if they could. London in particular was rapidly becoming a ghost town.  
  
There was just no hope any more. Nothing to believe in. No one to trust. She thought idly of that strange man she had once met at Adipose industries and wondered what had happened to him. He had been crazy but there had been something about him that she envied, a determination and belief in his eyes.   
  
You never saw that kind of faith any more. And the world was a much darker place because of it.  
  
Crossing to her desk, Penny looked at the Dictaphone tape in her in tray, along with a blank CD that no doubt contained some boring data to go with it, and growled low in her throat. She was an investigative journalist, not a bloody secretary, and whoever expected her to do their typing was going to get a right ear full. Grabbing the small tape angrily, she sat down at her desk and pulled out her tape machine, slamming the cassette in before she picked up the headphones and began to listen.   
  
She listened to the whole thing twice before she even thought to pick up her pencil.   
  
The voice was smooth, female, with a London accent although there was a hint of something about her voice that seemed so familiar to Penny. Whatever it was, she felt like she knew the speaker, as though she could trust her implicitly. The voice sounded as though its owner had spent a whole year just telling stories, her tone perfect to capture the attention, the emotion strong in her voice.  
  
Finally grabbing her pencil, Penny hastily began to transcribe the tape, barely hearing the words as she wrote before sitting back and looking at what she had and trembling. She had been after some hope, some ray of light in the bleak darkness that was this world, something for people to believe in again.  
  
And she thought she might just have it.  
  
 _“You have a right to know. All of you do. A right to know what happened to your children. What was going to happen to them. You have a right to know what your own leaders were going to do. The disc has some videos that you may find most... Well, let’s just say there’s a reason why Whitehall has gone so quiet.”  
  
“But more than that, more than knowing the truth behind it, you have a right to know why it stopped. Why all of a sudden the threat was gone. You have a right to know why your children returned to you, why they are safe asleep in their beds tonight. They are asleep because one child, just one, isn’t joining them.”  
  
“It wasn’t your government that saved the children. It wasn’t the might of UNIT or the scientific prowess of any superpower. It wasn’t prayer or faith; believe me, God had nothing to do with any of this.”  
  
“It was just a few people. Just a few people, working outside the government and trying to put this right, to stop this, to stand up for us as they have so many times. They have been working for over a hundred years to keep us safe. They operate in secret, surrounded by lies and in the end that is what has almost destroyed them, so many times in just a few years. So today the secrets end.”  
  
“The first time they were struck down it was their own secret nearly destroyed them and us all at Canary Wharf. The Cybermen and Daleks, that really happened and it was partly their fault – but they also suffered the most trying to put it right, to protect us.”  
  
“This this time it was a secret held by our own government, a dirty little lie, that nearly condemned us all as our leaders tried to destroy the only people who could save us _just to keep their secret safe _. But the government failed. That little team fought for us and they_ did it _. They won.”  
  
“In the end though, it was one man who figured it out, who managed to find the way to defeat the monsters. He was my friend. He protected my family when no one else could, when I couldn’t, when I...”  
  
“He worked out the way to save millions of children, your children, to make sure that when you wake up in the morning they will still be there beside you, jumping on your bed or spilling cereal on the floor whilst they watch cartoons. They will still be going to school and making friends and growing up because of him.”  
  
“And because of one little boy. That was the price of a million lives, just one child. Just one life, against so many others. A good bargain really.”  
  
“You have a right to know. To know how one man fought to save all the children. You have a right to know what a good man he is, how he fought to save your family and how he fought for what was right, just as he always has. How he saved us all, how he keeps saving us all, again and again. And what it costs him to save us.”  
  
“Just one child, one simple ordinary child was all it took to stop the aliens. It could have been any child. It could have been yours.”   
  
“But instead it was his, it was his own grandson, and in saving us all he lost his own flesh and blood. He lost a brilliant, beautiful child and that life can never be got back.”   
  
“If the government had their way they would never admit this ever happened, never confess that freedom was won at the cost of one life, even though they were prepared to lose millions instead.”  
  
“But you have a right to know. You have a right to know the man who saved your children is a man who had to do things no one should ever have to do. Cos that’s what he does. He protects us, no matter what the cost.”  
  
“And he is not alone, there are others fighting for you, protecting you without you knowing. And when one of them falls another will take their place, because _they will never stop fighting _. They will never stop protecting us all.”  
  
“And you have a right to know... To know their name. Their name... is Torchwood. So when you feel afraid, when you look at the skies and wonder what else is out there, when you feel terrified that there is nothing you can do, that there are no heroes left in this world then I promise you, you are _wrong _. There are heroes. They may not always get it right but they always try and that is all any of us can do.”  
  
“So go back to your jobs, return to your lives, let your children go back to school because I promise you, there are people out there watching over you. I’m asking you to remember that no matter what the battle, there _is _someone fighting for you. Always has been and always will be.”  
  
“But when you look at your children, when you dress them for school and pack their lunchboxes I ask you to think of the child who won’t be returning to school ever again, who will never grow old or fall in love or...”  
  
“When you think how lucky you are to have your family by your side I want you to think of what might have been and be grateful for the second chance we all have. And when you say your prayers or simply take a quiet moment of peace at the end of the day I ask you to remember one child. One name in a million, one little boy who lost his life so all his friends could live.”  
  
“I ask you... to remember Steven.”_


End file.
